A Prince's Confession
by Paviel Petrovich
Summary: Months after returning in disgrace to the Southern Isles, Prince Hans consults with a man knowledgeable about magic to attempt to figure out why he had failed so miserably to claim the throne of Arendelle. Armed with new knowledge, he makes plans for a better life for himself, with the help of his favorite brother, Lars. Their father, however, has other plans for his prodigal son.
1. A Prince's Confession

A Prince's Confession

The final rays of sunlight were hidden from the prince's view by the building in front of him, casting a dark pall over him. The glass of its windows, colored and shaped into designs intended to glorify some greater power than the prince could understand, only looked black from where he stood; black but for the faint flicker of the candles being lit inside, their glow barely visible.

But the stones and windows of this place were no darker than those of the castle where he had spent so much of his life. And within these walls was the only man in the Southern Isles who could answer his questions.

Prince Hans Westergaard, thirteenth son of King Haakon of the Southern Isles, approached the doors of the cathedral, raised his hand in a closed fist, and rapped his gloved knuckles on the thick timber in three knocks.

It could not have been more than a few minutes that the prince stood there in the cold shadow of that holy place, feeling some of the first few flakes of snow brushing against his right cheek.

But to Hans, it felt like an eternity. The cold northerly wind reminded him of his failures a mere five months ago, when he had fought so hard to win a crown, and his freedom.

 _You shall not commit murder._

 _You shall not steal._

Hans knew the scriptures well enough, though he had been foolish to believe that any man would actually live by them. That revelation of his former naivete, when Anna lay freezing in Hans' arms, pleading for the love that he could not give her... that nobody could give her...

That revelation had turned him into everything that he hated about his brothers.

And even so, he had failed where they surely would have succeeded. _How? Why?_

They, of course, would say that he could not do anything right. They had jeered at him so cruelly for his powerlessness against the Snow Queen's magic... his failure to win her hand in marriage... his failure to win her kingdom...

But there had to be some greater reason, Hans knew. Something had stopped his attempt on Queen Elsa's life: Something that he couldn't have predicted, and only the priest who was just now opening the door could tell him what. Hans was prepared to explain all, even confess what the old priest would probably call his darkest sins, if only he could learn...

And never fail so miserably again...

"Thank you for receiving me, Father Kierkegaard," Hans said to him, passing across the threshold into the soft candle-light of the sanctuary. The priest's face was lined with age, but his grey eyes pierced Hans like blades of steel as they followed him.

"Many who were lost have come to me for direction, Prince Hans. I see that you are troubled. Heaven willing, I shall help you however I may."

Hans walked up to one of the benches near the door and sat. "Do you recall the coronation of Queen Elsa of Arendelle?" he asked the priest. "Much happened between then and my journey back here to the Southern Isles, and if I don't speak of it... I'm not sure what will happen."

"Yes. She had been kept in seclusion for most of her childhood for reasons unknown, until she revealed at her coronation that she had a gift for ice magic," said Father Kierkegard. "For a few days, summer turned into winter as she conjured her deathly cold magic upon the land, until her sister Anna convinced her to reverse the spell and restore summer. Is this what you speak of?"

"That... wasn't exactly what happened," Hans said. "Queen Elsa fled Arendelle after revealing her magic, and Princess Anna set out to find her and, as you say, convince her to reverse the spell, but... Let me start with my own journey there, and what I sought to accomplish...

"The official reason for my journey to Arendelle," Hans continued, "was to court Elsa and convince her to marry me, but soon after my arrival I learned that Elsa had a younger sister, Anna, who had apparently spent her childhood in seclusion as well, and who seemed... ecstatic... at the gates being opened for her sister's coronation. Anna was very pleased to meet me, and I suspected that it would be far easier for me to marry Anna and... arrange an accident to ensure Anna's coronation... than to try to marry Elsa."

"You speak of murder." Father Kierkegard's whisper struck Hans like four hammer-blows, in a way that a shout could not have done.

Hans hesitated. The condemnation struck him like ice, for Hans had not initially intended physical harm upon the queen... but in the end, it hadn't mattered; in the end, he attempted regicide, and his more benign intentions earlier had only paved his road to hell.

"Murder, yes," he finally said, declining to argue the point. He was here at Father Kierkegaard's pleasure, and he still needed the priest's counsel desperately enough to forfeit the last vestiges of his pride in exchange. "While Anna was eager to marry me... too eager, in fact... Elsa did not consent to the marriage. It was during an argument between them on this subject... one that I find all too familiar... that Elsa revealed her icy magical powers, and then fled to the mountains.

"Anna insisted on following her; I don't know why. If one of my brothers had the sort of power that I saw Elsa conjure that night, I would have stayed as far away from him as I possibly could. Whatever the case, she took her horse and rode off in search of her sister; at her request, I took charge of the governance of Arendelle in her absence."

Hans looked up at the white-haired priest, who was looking back at him with the same intense scrutiny as before.

"I did what I could to keep the people safe from the cold, even insisting that the emissaries of the other kingdoms contribute to the upkeep of Arendelle. The people were cold, of course, and needed food and warm clothing, which we provided. The Duke of Weaseltown was-"

"Wesselton," Father Kierkegard corrected.

"-particularly reluctant," Hans continued, "to give away the woolen cloaks that he had brought for trade, but lives were at stake."

"You would murder a queen," the priest whispered again, "yet you would not allow a serf to die of cold."

"Nor a soldier," Hans added. "The next day, Anna's horse returned without her. The people insisted that I send soldiers to search for her and Elsa, and I agreed. The Duke of Weaseltown ordered-"

"Wesselton," the priest corrected again.

"-two of his soldiers to accompany my men, and we set out. Their orders, as issued by the Duke, were 'to end this winter.'

"High in the north mountain we found a fortress made entirely of ice, and there we found Elsa. The Weaseltown soldiers fought-"

Father Kierkegard remained silent.

"-particularly hard against her, but there was no overcoming her icy magic. No doubt they feared, as their Duke did, that Elsa was some monster rather than a human; and Elsa was just about to kill them with her magic when..."

Hans paused and looked the grandfatherly priest in the eyes again.

"You did not kill her," the priest said. "I know that."

"I told her not to become the monster that they feared she was." Hans swallowed to compensate for his dry mouth. "It might have been so much simpler for me if she were... but then again, perhaps not. I thought it better to pass up an opportunity for regicide, of which I might have many more over the years, than to risk leaving the kingdom in endless winter.

"We captured Elsa and brought her back to Arendelle, and I tried to convince her to undo the spell, but she insisted that she couldn't. She pleaded with me to let her go.

"Though we hadn't found Anna in the ice palace, by sheer luck she had made her way back to Arendelle on her own, and the servants hurried her to me. She asked me to kiss her, saying that Elsa had cast some icy curse on her heart, and that only an act of true love could save her."

"But you could not give her true love's kiss," Father Kierkegard whispered. "Could you?"

"Indeed I could not. And here I had a more promising opportunity than I could have dreamed of. Elsa had used her magic to curse Anna, just as I had suspected that she might, and Anna's hours were numbered. The servants had seen Anna's discolored hair and felt her chilled body, so they too knew what had happened to her. All I had to do was wait for Anna to die and execute Elsa for killing her, and Arendelle would be mine."

Hans felt rather than saw the steel gaze of the priest. "That did not happen either," the priest said.

"Elsa escaped from my custody," Hans continued, "and fled across the frozen fjord. I pursued her as fast as I could, but if anything, her magic was stronger than ever. Finally I found her, and finally I had the opportunity for which I had been waiting. But just as I was about to strike her down...

"I don't know what happened next." Hans swallowed again. "I think I saw Anna coming between me and Elsa and raising her hand to try to block my attack. She must have been so solidly frozen that my sword could not even scratch her. In fact..." Hans reached into a pouch on his belt and drew forth a thick cloth holding several shards of steel, one of which was quite clearly the hilt of a sword. Despite the relative warmth of the sanctuary, the sharp edges of the shards were coated in frost. "...the sword shattered, and the pieces have been as cold as ice ever since that day.

"All I know is that when I awoke, Queen Elsa and Anna were both alive and well, and summer had been restored, as though Elsa had never cursed the land... or Anna."

Father Kierkegard looked curiously at the shards of steaming, ice-cold metal but did not touch them. He turned his eyes to the young prince.

"Peace be with you," he whispered, and Hans flinched at the sound. If Father Kierkegaard's judgment earlier had struck him like an icy hammer, this offer of peace struck his heart like blades of fire.

"I did not come here for peace," the young prince growled, and again he raised his head to meet the old priest's gaze. "I came here for answers. Why would Anna come to Elsa's defense after Elsa froze her heart? What act of true love could have saved her? How could Elsa have reversed the storm after my attempt on her life when she clearly couldn't or wouldn't before?"

The priest held the prince's gaze patiently. "If what you have said about your attempt on Elsa's life is true," he whispered again, his "t"s cutting the air like the frozen shards lying near the prince's hip, "and in particular, that Anna tried to protect Elsa by blocking your attack," he added, "then I believe that despite all appearances, Anna truly loved Elsa. That she was willing to stand before your sword, rather than let you kill Elsa, recalls to me a reading from the Book of Johannes: 'There is no greater act of true love than to lay down my life for my friends.' As the Book speaks true, such an act too might thaw a frozen heart."

"Despite everything, Anna and Elsa love each other..." Hans uttered the words slowly, as though reciting an unfamiliar language. "No greater act of true love than to lay down my life for my friends." He spoke more clearly now. "For Anna to be willing to come to Elsa's defense... that's much different from me and my brothers. I... gravely misjudged them." He stood up and wrapped the shards in their cloth again. "To lay down my life for my friends... Like a soldier who willingly stands between the enemy and his own comrades, I suppose. Is that an act of true love?"

"It is of a much different sort than true love's kiss," replied Father Kierkegard, "but yes. To put the needs of another before your own needs, even to risk your life in saving the lives of others... Yes, that is true love."

"Thank you, Father," Hans said. "I think I understand what happened better now. I did indeed misjudge Queen Elsa and Princess Anna."

"You have made unwise decisions, but that is the first step on the path to wisdom," said Father Kierkegard. "Your heart is good, Prince Hans."

"Princess Anna claimed that the only frozen heart in Arendelle was mine," said Hans as he tucked the cloth-covered metal shards into his pouch again. "Even so, I appreciate your confidence."

"Faith," corrected the priest, leading Hans back to the door. "Even if Princess Anna was right about you, yours is not the only frozen heart in the Southern Isles, Prince Hans. One raised among vipers may be forgiven for acting as a viper does, until he learns better."

"Now I take my leave to return to a nest of fourteen of them," sighed Hans.

"You know your parents and your brothers better than I, Prince Hans," said the priest. "Though you did not come seeking peace, I bid you depart in peace." He opened the door. "Farewell."

"Farewell, Father," said Hans. "Peace be also with you."

The prince stepped over the threshold, out of the light of the candles illuminating the inner walls of the sanctuary and into the darkness outside.

He walked toward the dark walls of the castle as slowly as he could, dreading each step. No love from brother or sister awaited him there. He envied the bond between Queen Elsa of Arendelle and her sister Anna, the bond that he had so rashly attempted to cut asunder, not even knowing what it truly was until it was too late.

And yet... they had clearly been angry at each other on the night of the coronation...

 _What have I ever done to you?_

 _That's enough, Anna!_

 _No! Why? Why are you shutting me out? Why are you shutting the world out? What do you_ ** _fear_** _so much?_

 _I said, that's_ _ **enough!**_

When he was younger, Hans had had similar arguments with his own brothers, though fewer with Lars than with the others.

Lars... Hans could still remember the last time they had talked, when Lars had learned of Hans' failures last summer. Of the twelve princes, Lars' reaction to the news of Hans' failure had wounded Hans most deeply. For though Lars had not scoffed at Hans for failing to woo Elsa, nor ridiculed his miserable attempt on her life, nor even had a hint of such mockery in his eyes at they met Hans'... what _was_ in Lars' eyes was a thousand times worse: Fear.

Never before in his life had Hans seen Lars so afraid. Worst of all, it was as clear as ice to Hans exactly what—or rather, whom—Lars was so afraid of.

The one brother whom Hans trusted most now feared him most, and Lars didn't know the half of what Hans had done; Queen Elsa's accusations had been mercifully vague, and until tonight Hans had never expounded on them to anyone.

Lars was not going to like what Hans had to tell him, but afraid or not, he was the best brother Hans had. He was currently visiting their father's castle, and Hans knew exactly where to find him.


	2. A Brother's Counsel

A Brother's Counsel

"Good evening, Lars," Hans hailed the older man who was sitting at the desk, reading a book. Hans made sure to call him from a safe distance, outside of the library door, so as not to startle him in the middle of his reading. Heaven knew that Lars had reason enough to fear him already.

"Ah, Hans," said Lars as he stood and turned to face his youngest brother. Hans was always struck by how pale Lars' hair was, almost a white-gold color, uncannily reminiscent of Queen Elsa's. "I was hoping to have a word with you."

"About what?" Hans stepped into the library and looked around at the shelves that lined the walls. Lars had spent so much time here when he and Hans had been younger...

"Arendelle," Lars replied. "You have been shutting me out ever since you returned from there. For that matter, you have been shutting everybody else out as well. There is something that you haven't told me about your journey, and it's more than just Queen Elsa's accusations against you. There is something else you're afraid of..."

Hans laughed. Lars' castigation sounded to him so much like Anna and Elsa on the night of the coronation that he could not help but laugh.

"Hans?" The look of surprise and injury on Lars' face stifled Hans' laughter.

"I'm sorry, Lars. You just reminded me of something I overheard at Elsa's coronation: An argument between her and her sister Anna."

"Anna..." Lars said. "You strayed from the plan, and decided to marry her rather than Elsa... Why?"

"Elsa had been in seclusion all her life, and Anna was much more... open... than Elsa. I thought it would be easier." _And I botched my introduction, mistaking the one sister for the other..._

"It wouldn't have made you king, though. Not unless... not unless you murdered Elsa as well."

"That had occurred to me as well," said Hans. "I still thought it would be easier."

Lars sighed. "You are not a killer, Hans." From any of his other brothers, it would have been an insult, but Lars made it sound like the highest praise. "Killing is never as easy as it sounds. I suppose you found that out for yourself, seeing as Elsa is still the queen of Arendelle."

"It was harder than it sounded, yes," Hans agreed, "but not for that reason. As I said, I met Princess Anna shortly after my arrival in Arendelle, and I quickly deduced that it would be much easier for me to marry her than Queen Elsa. However, Anna and I still needed Elsa's permission to marry, and Elsa refused to grant even that. It was then that Anna scolded Elsa in almost the exact same way that you just scolded me: She asked why Elsa kept shutting her out, why she kept shutting the world out, what she was so afraid of... and then Elsa revealed her magic, conjuring a wall of ice around herself."

"So that's why their parents kept them in seclusion," Lars said. "They didn't want Elsa to hurt anybody with her icy magic."

"No doubt," said Hans. "And then..."

Hans continued to relate his experiences at Arendelle, as he had done with Father Kierkegard earlier that evening.

"Only an act of true love can thaw a frozen heart," Lars said. "Come, Hans. Take a look at what I was just reading."

Hans walked over to Lars' desk and looked at the book, open to a page somewhere in the middle.

"Much of the earlier parts are more agreeable to our father, I would guess, and to most of the others as well," Lars commented, "but these middle chapters help me escape from their madness."

 _...Love your friends truly, as I have loved you truly. There is no greater act of true love than to lay down my life for my friends. You are my friends too if you do this..._

"That's just what Father Kierkegard said!" Hans exclaimed. "The Book of Johannes, he called it."

"You've gone to see Father Kierkegard!" Lars exclaimed, and Hans could hear the smile in his voice. "He has been a good friend to me as well, one for whom I would gladly lay down my life."

"Just as Anna laid down her life for Elsa," Hans said.

"Just so," Lars agreed. "You know, I suggested that you attend the coronation of Elsa and try to court her because I suspected that you would be much happier in Arendelle than here."

"Yes, I agree."

"Despite everything that you've done since then, I still think that's the case."

"I'm not going back to Arendelle; Queen Elsa would freeze me solid if I tried; or perhaps Anna would do worse. I agree that anywhere would be better for me than here, but not Arendelle."

"I suppose our father the king wouldn't be pleased to send you anywhere in any case," said Lars. "It is unfortunate."

"I am honestly past caring what would or would not please Father," Hans admitted. "According to him, I can't do anything right. He's worse than our brothers."

"Nonetheless, don't act rashly," Lars advised. "Consider every possibility before you make your choice. I know that it looks like you've used up the last of your options, but trust me: You haven't."

Hans was reminded of the chest full of gold that Lars had given him last year, in honor of his twentieth birthday. Every gold piece remained inside that chest, since Hans had not had any reason to spend it. His journey to Arendelle, for example, had been paid for by his father.

Moreover, until now he had wanted to avoid arousing rumors by spending what he had never been able to spend in the past. But now... "Every possibility... Let me see your maps."

Hans and Lars pored over the maps of the Southern Isles and the surrounding lands. As Hans' goal was to avoid Arendelle to the north, they quickly disregarded that particular map.

"Corona looks interesting," said Hans, pointing to the area thus marked on one of the maps. "South of here. How are our relations with them?"

"Friendly enough," said Lars. "A few years ago there was an unusual change in their military munitions, to which some of their soldiers did not take particularly well. Come to think of it, some of them have elected to come here and serve the Southern Isles due to our more conventional military ways."

"An unusual change in their military munitions?" Hans said. "What, do you mean they found some weapon better than a sword?"

"Strangely enough, they did indeed discard their swords for... a weapon similar to a mace or a warhammer, but with a much shorter handle..." Hans could hear suppressed laughter in Lars' voice. "and a broad, flat head."

"Like a frying pan?" Hans asked incredulously.

"No," Lars choked in a much more obvious, and futile, attempt to restrain a laugh. "Not _like_ a frying pan..."

Neither Hans nor Lars counted the minutes as the library rang with their laughter.

Hans couldn't believe it. Lars had _never_ lost his cool demeanor like this. Not a single laugh had ever escaped from this stalwart, studious prince. Nor from Hans himself, of course; he too had precious little to laugh about, and he felt as if twenty years' worth of laughter were attempting to escape from him in twenty seconds, erupting in excruciating joy from his chest.

 _This must be what Anna's relationship with Elsa is like, now..._

With that sobering thought, the heat in Hans' chest subsided, and he recovered enough of his breath to speak. "Frying pans... Where did they get the idea to use _frying pans_ as weapons?"

"Apparently," Lars replied with a chuckle, having recovered his breath as well, "they have developed a new style of combat for which frying pans were particularly well suited. Rumor has it that this fighting style was discovered by Queen Rapunzel herself."

Hans laughed again, but more briefly. "She has magic too, doesn't she? I wouldn't want to make an enemy of her."

"Indeed she does," said Lars, "or did, by all accounts, before she had her hair cut. But it is wise not to underestimate her even now that her hair _is_ cut. She and her husband Eugene would die for each other, and that inclination towards self-sacrifice is stronger than any magic."

"Again, like Anna and Elsa," said Hans. "Let's see where else... Ah, I did command some of Weaseltown's soldiers once." He pointed to the region east of Arendelle, northeast of the Southern Isles. "Perhaps I could find welcome there."

Lars sighed. "Hans, if you are even _thinking_ about setting forth for _Weselton_ , you must stop using that insulting epithet. No matter how well you commanded the Duke's forces in the mountains north of Arendelle, they will never kindly to you unless you pronounce the country's name correctly."

"Weselton... Weselton..." Hans said. "I understand that Elsa has commanded an embargo between Arendelle and Weselton as well, so I can reasonably expect no trouble from her, unless I go looking for it."

"Keep in mind that the Duke is not happy about that embargo," Lars said. "If he is unhappy enough about it, then he might order an invasion of Arendelle."

"True," Hans acknowledged. "What about the Western Isles?" He pulled out a map of the two islands far to the west.

"A much longer journey," said Lars. "I would advise against it. My history books claim that the people there are descended from our ancestors' brothers who set out to conquer the Western Isles more than a thousand years ago, but for a prince of the Southern Isles to visit them... I'm sure Father wouldn't allow even me to make such a journey. Nor would I leave Skaggerik undefended anyway."

"Would it be easier to convince him to send me to Corona? Weselton?" Hans asked.

"Probably," said Lars, "but don't get your hopes up until you've spoken to him."

The candles were burning low, and the full moon hung high in the sky; it was quite late.

"Thank you for the conversation, Lars," said Hans. "It is quite late, and who knows what tomorrow will bring? Good night."

"Thank you too, Hans," said Lars. "I am glad that you were willing to talk to me about Arendelle. And... for my part, I enjoyed the jest, and I hope you did too."

Hans stared at him for a few seconds. That "jest" was the purest joy that he had shared with any of his brothers... even with Lars himself... ever in his life. "I wish we had done this long ago," whispered Hans.

Hans knew that he could not contain the fire that had rekindled in his chest, nor stop its eruption from his eyes. He hoped that he had turned away and left the library before his most beloved brother could see or hear the eruption.

By the same token, however, he had turned away too quickly to see that Lars, too, had tears in his eyes; he had walked away to quickly to hear Lars whisper "So do I, Johannes... So do I."


	3. A Father's Command

A Father's Command

The next morning came too soon for Hans. A servant woke him with news that the king demanded his presence within the hour.

Whatever Hans' father had planned for him, Hans knew that it would not end well. He had been furious at Hans' failure to win over Queen Elsa, and even more furious at Hans' insistence that further overtures would be impossible.

He blinked out the harsh red sunlight until his eyes had adjusted to consciousness, dressed, and set out for the dining hall to break his fast.

Thankfully, he was able to eat alone at this hour; while he would have been glad to speak to Lars again, he did not relish the idea of speaking to any of his other brothers. Rudi and Runo in particular had been tormenting him for decades, but the others had treated him badly too, in their own way. Their ridicule had only been exacerbated by Hans' failure in Arendelle.

Even Lars had never stood up for him when the thirteen of them were together. The only gestures of kindness Lars had ever shown him were when the two of them were alone, and that was infrequent enough.

Whatever the king wanted to do with Hans, the young prince hoped that it included sending him far away from this place.

His plate empty and his stomach as full as it could be, given his nerves, Hans quit the dining hall for the throne room, where the king was undoubtedly waiting for him. The hour was not entirely spent, but Hans wanted to get his business with his father concluded with the utmost haste, and he suspected that his father would agree to such haste.

He was not disappointed.

"Hans," the old king said, his voice echoing off the dark grey stones of the great hall. A quill and a long roll of parchment were in each of his hands. "I have been contemplating our neighbors to the north, and I would speak to you of it."

"Arendelle, I presume," said Hans. "Queen Elsa would never forgive my behavior, I am absolutely sure. I would honestly expect her to kill me if I even considered courting her, and I have no doubt that she is quite capable of it."

"And what of her sister, Princess Anna?"

"Even less forgiving, and perhaps even more hostile to me than Elsa. If anything, I crossed her even worse."

"Diplomacy is not your forte, is it, Hans?" asked the king. "I must consider other possibilities, then. War, perhaps."

War. Hans remembered the old king considering attacking Corona when he learned of the strange powers that Princess Rapunzel seemed to wield. The only thing that dissuaded him was a report from his spies that Corona's new weaponry seemed highly ineffective in offensive combat, though deadly in defense, and that the magic of Rapunzel herself was far better suited to health than to harm.

 _My father is afraid of magic. He is afraid of anything that might attack him, and against which he could not defend with steel. The cold wind blowing from the north six months ago did not stop at the sea south of Arendelle. They felt it here too. Of course my father would do anything to make sure that that never happens again._

"I am well aware of the strange magic that Queen Elsa possesses, and I would ensure that she does not use it against me. Your orders, Hans, are to raise an army and put an end to the threat that she poses to my kingdom."

"An army?" Hans asked. "How great an army?"

"As many as will follow you," said the king. "I must insist that the number be at least ten; if you cannot persuade that many to join you, I can arrange it for you."

The insult was not lost on Hans; he _would_ have difficulty finding even ten men willing to follow him in an assault on Arendelle now. His unsuccessful bid for the crown of Arendelle was so well known even so far south that only the most unscrupulous mercenaries would follow him now, and not cheaply. Hans was gladder than ever for the gold Lars had given him, but he feared that even it would not be enough.

"I shall keep you informed of my progress every evening until I am ready to depart, Father," said Hans. "I expect that I should have rallied an army for this attack within three sunsets."

"Three sunsets? One could hardly muster a band within that time, let alone a host."

"If I am to lead this assault against Arendelle, then I must do so in the way that I deem best. And the way that I deem best is through stealth and speed, for which a band would serve me better than a host." _And to ensure that as few men as possible follow me to their deaths and mine_ _,_ Hans left unsaid.

"Hmm... A prudent decision, Hans. You may do as you please."

With a wave of his hand, King Haakon turned his attention away from Hans and toward his quill and parchment.

After his exit from the throne room, Hans decided to quit the castle while he gathered his thoughts.

 _Fact one: Father wants me to attack Arendelle, and take at least ten men to do it._

Hans walked slowly through the streets outside of the castle gate.

 _Fact two: Queen Elsa will not hesitate to kill me if I return—when I return to her kingdom._

Only a light dusting of snow had fallen upon the Southern Isles as yet, but the cold was harsh enough that far more of the city's inhabitants were huddled around their hearths than going about the streets.

 _Fact three: I will not have the official support of my family in this endeavor. I could not take any of my brothers with me even if I wanted to._

The plaza in the middle of the city, about one quarter of a league from the castle, was nearly deserted; Hans was sure, though, that the inns and taverns would be full of men seeking warmth.

 _Fact four: I want my family to know as little about my plans as possible._

Hans stayed close to the buildings to shelter himself from the biting wind that lashed the inner region of the plaza. He passed a building bearing a sign reading "Feuerzauberer." From a glimpse into one of its ground-floor windows, Hans saw that the men paying custom to this establishment were well experienced in combat of one sort or another, though currently engaged in the comparatively peaceful task of gustation.

 _Fact five: A tavern is as good a place as any to find mercenaries for hire._

He walked in. With a little luck, he might find everyone he needed here.

In a stroke of luck, there was a single empty seat in the inn, which Hans claimed for himself. To his right sat a blond-haired, blond-bearded man in a dark green tunic, with a long sword at his side. In another stroke of luck, this man appeared to be the most battle-hardened warrior in the room.

"Sir," he said to the warrior as he sat down on his left side, the sword at the warrior's left hip pinned between them. "May I have your name please?"

The warrior turned to look at him. "Noble, ha," he scoffed. "My name for yours, _milord_ _._ "

Between the man's disdainful gaze and the audible venom laced within that last word, Hans was incredibly ill at ease. Suddenly, he realized that the entire tavern had gone quiet, and every eye in the room was pointed in his direction.

Then, looking back at the patrons seated at the bar and at the tables, Hans realized that he was easily the most elegantly-dressed man there; he had not changed out of his royal finery after his meeting with his father, and it had not occurred to him, until now that it was too late, that it might be unwise to attract such attention from the common folk.

Then he realized that he could not possibly make things any more shameful for himself than they were already, even by announcing to the entire tavern that he was the disgraced son of King Haakon. So he replied to the warrior in his clearest, most confident tone, "I am Hans Westergaard."

"Ah, Hans!" exclaimed the warrior, his eyes and voice no longer venomous. "Call me Gustav. It is a rare pleasure." He extended his right hand in greeting.

Self-conscious of the white gloves concealing his own hands, Hans took off his right glove and shook Gustav's hand. "The pleasure is all yours," he said. Necessity, not pleasure, had prompted this meeting, and Hans truly wasn't as pleased to meet Gustav as the veteran warrior sounded. Why would this man be pleased to meet Hans, of all people? He clearly had no respect for royalty in general...

And why was Gustav holding the handshake for so long?

Then Hans remembered his habit, when forced into torturous dinners with his older brothers, of running his bare fingers along the raw timber of the table, savoring the slivers of wood as they pierced his flesh, welcoming the miniscule assaults on his body as distractions from the far-from-miniscule assaults on his mind...

"You conceal them well, Hans—if I may call you Hans..." Gustav began, very slowly letting go of Hans' hand.

Hans nodded. "You may." He admired this man's bluntness.

"...but I can feel the scars on your hand. You're a warrior too, aren't you?"

"What?" Hans exclaimed, dumbfounded. "No, I've never gone to war."

"Wars come in many shapes and sizes, Hans," said Gustav, gesturing to the weapon hanging from his left hip. "This sword of mine has seen me through many battlefields, in combat against many soldiers, but I'd be a fool to call myself the expert on every battle ever fought. From what I have seen and heard, though, the battles waged in throne rooms and ballrooms are far deadlier than any _I've_ ever fought. And you... you've fought such battles yourself, haven't you?"

Deadly battles waged in throne rooms and ballrooms did, in fact, amount to a fair summary of the story of Hans' life. How could Gustav read him so easily?

"I suppose I've fought battles like that, yes," said Hans. "Lost every one of them, obviously..."

"Not obvious to me," said Gustav. "The only thing obvious to me is that you _survived_ those battles, Hans. You don't lose battles like that until you're dead, and you're not dead."

"I guess you're right," said Hans, his chest suddenly uncomfortably warm. "Sometimes I think it would be better that way, though. Certainly it is nothing to boast about that I survived Arendelle."

"Is it not?" Gustav asked. "You wooed the younger princess Anna under false pretenses; you usurped Arendelle for a day; you stood up to Elsa, the Snow Queen herself... twice, I might add; and you very nearly struck her down the second time; and then, when it all came to nothing, when your bid for power was exposed as treason, you still escaped with your life. Not many can say as much for themselves."

"Is that a _good_ thing?" The words were out of Hans' mouth before he realized what he was asking. Never before had he had any reason to care.

"Leave the prattle about good and evil to philosophers, not to fighters like me. For my part, I see courage and cowardice, recklessness and caution, foolhardiness and foresight. Your deeds were reckless and foolhardy, a fatal flaw for many princes... but not for you: You survived them. Any battle, no matter how foolish, strengthens whom it does not kill."

"By the same token," said Hans, "Elsa too is stronger for her battles against me. I do not look forward to..." He stopped, suddenly. He had not meant to tell too many people about his plans, and although the rest of the crowd was again engrossed in their food and drink, he couldn't trust them not to eavesdrop.

"To what?" asked Gustav.

"To the purpose of my visit here," answered Hans. "Might we speak again somewhere more private? I do not wish to be overheard."


	4. A Mercenary's Company

A Mercenary's Company

"Thank you for meeting us, Hans," said Gustav. As per his instructions, Hans had waited thirty minutes and then set forth for the docks, where he was to meet Gustav's most trusted companions. "Allow me to introduce Heinrich..."

The oldest of Gustav's companions (though scarcely older than Hans himself) waved a gesture of polite greeting to Hans, and muttered a greeting.

"Karl..." Gustav gesticulated more forcefully to another of his friends, of a height with Heinrich and most likely related, as he shared Heinrich's dark hair. If Hans had to guess, Heinrich and Karl were brothers.

Karl's gesture, too, was forceful, as if he were not sure of Hans' ability to see his hand. He made some other gestures besides his greeting, but did not speak.

"And Rolf." Gustav gestured to the shortest and lithest of the men; indeed, to describe Rolf as a "man" at all would be generous indeed. He couldn't have seen ten winters yet!

"Pleasure," the lad stated, nodding his head. With a voice as high as that, he couldn't have seen eight winters yet.

"I am pleased to meet all of you. But what is your purpose, Gustav, in introducing us?"

"The four of us will accompany you on your journey to Arendelle, Hans, for ten golden marks each, in advance."

"This is no child's play," said Hans. "I cannot be a father to Rolf."

"Nor would I be a child to you, with due respect," said Rolf.

"He may be short and slender as a dagger," said Heinrich, "but with such a weapon in his hand, he is deadly indeed. He'll serve you as well as I will." Hans noticed that Heinrich was making some strange gestures in Karl's direction, and Karl was making equally strange gestures in return.

"Rolf has indeed been a great asset to me," said Gustav. "He will earn every penny of his price."

"I do not doubt that he will earn his keep any more than I doubt that he will live to enjoy it," said Hans, "but that doubt is great indeed." He turned to Rolf and knelt to look him in the eye. "You may join me, and earn ten golden marks, at your own peril. My journey is perilous indeed."

"Where my brothers go, I will go," said Rolf. "Our journey, too, has been perilous, yet we remain together."

"As you wish," agreed Hans. "I am willing to hire all of you for my desperate gambit against Queen Elsa of Arendelle. Meet me at the Feuerzauberer in twenty minutes, and I shall have your payment."

"Agreed," said Gustav, and they shook hands.

As Hans turned to walk towards the castle and retrieve some gold from his hidden stash, he was accosted by three tall, blond, bearded men.

"Prince Hans," the middle man spoke, "I overheard your conversation with that other band of ruffians. If it is a desperate gambit against Queen Elsa of Arendelle that you embark upon, then the three of us would lend our strength to yours."

"Who are you," asked Hans, "and what is my business with Queen Elsa to you?"

"I am Turgeis," said the middle man, "and these are my brothers Truan..." He gestured to his left. "...and Tyrfing." He gestured to his right.

"We but lately hailed from Arendelle; do you not remember us?" asked Tyrfing. "But for your aid, we would certainly be dead."

"Yea, milord; your blankets and warm soup were the only thing that stood between us and death that day," added Truan. "We owe you our lives, and if we are to repay that debt in an attack against her who nearly killed us, so much the better."

"What price for your service?" asked Hans. "I am in haste to deliver stipend to those other men too; speak quickly."

"Five marks each," Tyrfing answered at once.

"Done."

* * *

The fifty-five marks were heavier in Hans' pouch than he thought they would be, yet the chest from which he had taken them seemed no lighter or emptier for their absence. Lars' gift to him had been grand indeed; Hans wondered why he had never appreciated how grand it was until now.

On reflection, Hans knew why: Until now, he had had no use for so much gold. Nothing that he could possibly have purchased with it would have made it any easier to escape the Southern Isles, until now. In fact, given that Hans had never had two gold coins to rub together before Lars gave him this gift, it would have been scandalous indeed for him to have such a trove now.

And it would be scandalous still, of course. He tied the purse-string around his neck and concealed it under his coat; then he closed, locked, and hid his chest; and then he departed from his bedchamber to meet his new recruits.

All seven of them were at the bar of the Feuerzauberer, Gustav deep in conversation with Turgeis when Hans approached them.

"I have your payment ready," interrupted Hans, exposing his neck and the leather thong encircling it.

"Excellent, Prince Hans," said Turgeis, reaching around to pull the strap up over Hans' head and extracting his purse from his coat. "Solid gold by the weight of it. You deal more fairly than most nobility."

"I trust you know what is owed to whom," said Hans. "Rest well today and tomorrow, and meet me at the docks the day after. You will need your strength for what comes next."

Hans could hardly believe his good fortune; in less than a day, he had already secured the service of more than half of the force that he had promised his father, and for far less gold than he thought he would need.

Unless, of course, they killed each other over the gold that he had given to Gustav; but either Gustav was honest enough to give the rest of the men what Hans had promised, or Hans was a worse judge of character than he thought he was. Whether he would still have seven men under his command tomorrow morning, or whether he would learn a much-needed lesson in treachery, Hans had spent those fifty-five marks well.

As he weighed the likelihood that Gustav was honest against the likelihood that he was dishonest, Hans concluded that the former carried more weight. Gustav led those three brothers who seemed extremely close... almost as close as Elsa and Anna, he thought with a shiver that had nothing to do with the chill of early winter.

Heinrich struck Hans as being extremely protective of his younger brothers, and despite Karl's seeming inability to speak or hear, and despite Rolf's youth, they seemed so closely bound that not even a quest as desperate as Hans' could break them asunder.

Yes, an honest man could command such loyalty much more easily than a dishonest man: They would more than earn their keep, and if Hans made prudent use of them, then most likely they would all live to enjoy their reward.

As Hans lay down on his bed and pulled the fur blanket over himself, he did not even have any regrets that he could not say the same for himself.

Sleep overcame him more quickly than he thought it would, and so did the familiar nightmares about Anna, made worse now by the needles of fire in his heart.

* * *

The next morning, Hans nearly collided with a dark-haired man as he stepped out of his bedchamber. Hans recognized him immediately as Sigmund, one of the king's most valued spies.

"Good morning, Hans," said Sigmund. "King Haakon has informed me of your mission and instructed me to offer you my aid."

Hans was not pleased to hear that, and unfortunately he was probably unsuccessful in concealing that displeasure. Rogues did not become well-paid agents by failing to notice such things.

"I will do what I can without your aid, though I thank you all the same," replied Hans. "Am I safe in presuming that the offer stands through the next two sunsets?"

"It does, though His Majesty the King will have harsh words with you for stalling that long," said the spy. "You cannot possibly mean to fund this venture yourself! A ship alone would cost more than you will ever have to your name, even if there are any to be bought."

"Groveling at my father's feet is the last, and least, of my options. If I can find another way to carry out his orders, then I will."

"It is not groveling at His Majesty's feet to accept my aid, offered in good faith, Prince Hans."

"Aid offered at the behest of my father, and which I therefore have cause to mistrust."

"Be careful, Prince Hans. It would not do for any prince to speak treason, even the lowliest of them all."

"Your warning is noted. Good day, Sigmund."

Hans walked down the hallway away from Sigmund, feeling the spy's eyes on the nape of his neck, and finally he found his way out of that infernal castle.

 _A ship alone would cost more than you will ever have to your name._

Hans cursed himself for a fool as he headed towards the docks. Why hadn't he thought of this yesterday when he had met Gustav's men there? Of course they would need their own ship, especially now that he had no hope of getting one from his father.

The guards were only two happy to tell Hans about the ships that were moored at the docks, awaiting the warmer weather of spring. The _Dane_ was built for speed, but it was also lately purchased by King Haakon himself; Hans would never be able to buy it.

The _Svartalf_ was Lars' personal flagship, moored for the duration of his visit to the king, awaiting his return to his earldom of Skaggerik to the northwest. Though Hans was sure that Lars would be so kind as to offer the use of his ship, even if only in exchange for the remainder of the golden gift of last year, Hans knew that it would be unwise to make such an alliance clear to the rest of the kingdom in such a way.

The _Eisengarder_ was on the far side of the docks: A sturdy ship with a large berth for cargo, though ill-suited to military ventures other than transport.

"Aye, old Bjorn is getting pretty long in the tooth," said the guard, "and he's talked somewhat about enjoying the remainder of his years in peace. He's done fairly well for himself, but I'm not sure if he's serious about leaving his life as a traveling merchant behind."

"Where does he live?" asked Hans. "It would please me to learn more about commerce from such a distinguished trader."

"Right here by the docks. He rents a hostel on Shipwright's Row. First house on the right as you leave the docks."

Hans found it within minutes, and he knocked on the door.

"Aye?" a voice weathered by age replied from behind the door. "Who comes to my house?"

"I am Hans," said the prince.

The door opened, and an elderly man, bald at the crown but with silver hair about his temples, greeted him. "I am Bjorn Abenteuer," said he. "What brings such a fine lord to my humble home?"

Hans could not tell whether Bjorn's flattery was in earnest or in mockery, so he chose to ignore it. "May I enter, sir?"

"Aye, come in." Bjorn stood aside to grant Hans access to his domain.

It was a modest home, well furnished but with no decoration so speak of. Hans sat down at the table, and Bjorn sat opposite him.

"I see you have a fine ship," said Hans.

"Aye, that I do," said the elder. "If that bastard Haakon wants anything from me..."

"No," insisted Hans. "This is strictly for my own benefit. I happen to be in need of a ship and would therefore inquire what price you would put on yours."

"Fifty years ago my father bought that ship for my benefit. One thousand marks, and though his debts were paid, he didn't have two pennies for Charon."

"I am sorry for your loss," said Hans, eager for the old man to move on to other topics. It would be unwise to make his offer while Bjorn was in the middle of reminiscing about his family.

"No great loss; other dooms may be avoided, but old age cannot be. I paid back his debt to the Reaper easily enough, traveled the seas, earned enough coin that I can live fairly well here; but it would dishonor his memory to part with his greatest gift to me for a penny less than he paid for it."

"One thousand marks," repeated Hans, rising to his feet. "I will return before sunset, and you shall have the price you demand for the _Eisengarder._ Farewell."

* * *

Hans departed the old man's house and headed to the town square, hoping that it was late enough in the morning for Gustav to take a meal or some drink at the Feuerzauberer.

He was not disappointed. All seven of his men were seated at one of the larger tables, playing some game of cards; gold and silver lay gleaming on the table in front of them.

"Is it with my payment that you are wagering?" Hans asked them quietly.

"Since we have nothing else to spend this coin on... yes, it is," explained Tyrfing. "Is that a problem?"

"As long as you each received the payment we agreed upon, far be it from me to dictate how you spend it," said Hans. "Nobody is to be forced nor forbidden to gamble away their earnings; beyond that, you may do as you please with them."

"A wise edict, Hans," said Truan. "Care to make a wager?"

"I fear I have no time for such play; and now I fear that neither do you."

"What do you mean?"

Hans took a seat at the table and leaned forward to avoid being overheard.

"I have a large sum of gold in my chamber in the castle, which I must transport to a hostel by the docks before sunset."

"Sounds like a job for me," opined Rolf. "I can sneak in and out easily enough."

"You are all under my command, and so long as you remain with me, I will vouch for you," said Hans. "Stealth should not be necessary. But let's go."

As they departed the tavern and made for the castle, Heinrich asked "What, if I may ask, is the purpose of this gold?"

"It is for the purchase of a ship," replied Hans, looking around to ensure that nobody else was within earshot. "Or did you think that we would swim to Arendelle?"

Tyrfing laughed. "A fine jest, Hans! You would spend a fortune just to twist the king's nose!"

"My pride, such as it is, is worth it," answered Hans. "Besides, as you say, I have nothing else to spend this coin on."

Soon they arrived at the castle gates, where the gatekeeper demanded "Who goes there?"

"Hans Westergaard and his entourage," replied Hans.

"Since when did _Hans Westergaard_ have an entourage?" the guard asked.

"Yesterday these men swore oaths of loyalty to a prince of the Southern Isles; as they answer to me, I will answer for them."

"So be it. Come in." The gate swung open.

Once they were inside the courtyard, Hans hoped that it would not take long to reach his bedchamber, divide his gold among his men, and escape.

However, Heinrich seemed to have a different idea as he observed an elderly soldier instructing two younger men: new recruits by the looks of them, not yet worthy of the uniform.

"Wolfgang?" he called out.

The elderly soldier glanced in Heinrich's direction. "Do I know you, boy? Don't interrupt a soldier on duty!"

But Gustav, Karl, and Rolf had already joined Heinrich, and Hans had no choice but to join them as well, just to keep them out of the dungeon.

"Wolfgang! Do you not remember me? Gustav?"

"Ah, yes. You fought for Lars in the Riverland Wars. You dare much by coming here of all places."

"I remember how you kept the Lichberg children hidden when His Highness Prince Caleb ordered you to torch the farm and slaughter the farmers," said Gustav. Then he gestured to Heinrich and his brothers. "More importantly, so do they."

"Silence," whispered Wolfgang. "Do you want me to lose my head?"

"You disobeyed orders from the crown prince?" one of the recruits asked, visibly impressed.

"Shut up, Alric," said the other recruit, "or he _will_ lose his head, and so will we."

"Peace, Ranulf," said Wolfgang to the recruit who had just spoken. Turning to Gustav again, he asked "What business brings you to Castle Westergaard, anyway?"

"My business," replied Hans, stepping forward. "Which, unless you would join me, is none of yours."

"Prince Hans!" exclaimed Wolfgang upon seeing the young prince for the first time. "What are you doing with these men?"

"Father has his orders for me to rally a band of ten men," answered Hans, "but I will carry those orders out on my terms, with your aid or without."

"You're planning something grand, aren't you?" asked one of the recruits; if Hans' memory was correct, he had been called Ranulf. "Count me in."

"Alric will be dead in a day if I'm not there to keep him alive," said the other recruit, and Hans realized his error in memory immediately. "Count me in too."

Wolfgang looked at the two erstwhile recruits, then at the four men who were with Hans, then at the three men who were just joining the conversation. Hans could see the old soldier's gloved fingers working the numbers.

"Very well," Wolfgang acquiesced. "Since my head is likely to roll anyway if I stay, and since I have few enough years left in me, I too will join you, Hans."


	5. A Warrior's Captain

4\. A Warrior's Captain

Three sunsets after his meeting with Gustav, Hans looked over the stern of his ship and saw the royal castle vanishing into the horizon, along with the rest of the island.

His final meeting with Lars, on the docks outside of the capital city, was as bittersweet as he had expected...

"Hans..." Lars had said. "I am sorry. I don't think any apology will be enough; I have done you such a great wrong for the last twenty years."

"Lars, you can save your apologies for my funeral," Hans had retorted and immediately regretted it. "I'm sorry; I appreciate your apology anyway. I'm just... nervous."

"I wish you could confide your... nerves... to me. That you cannot tell me what troubles you marks yet another failure on my part. I long for the day when we can share our darkest fears and our brightest hopes with each other, just the two of us. No greedy brothers or ambitious father; no powerless mother; just us."

"I would like that too." Hans thought for a moment. What Lars suggested might not be impossible; even if Hans survived his foolish attack on Arendelle, he would probably never leave. And if he failed again to kill Elsa... she would be foolish even to let him live, no less to send him back to the Southern Isles in one piece again. "If you should ever sail to Arendelle, I will be there."

"I will hold you to that," said Lars. "May we meet again someday in Arendelle..."

* * *

Hans wiped salt-water from his cheeks, too warm to be spray from the cold sea.

"Captain," hailed Gustav. "You seem introspective, sir. Are you well?"

"No, I am not well; and no, it's nothing you can help, except by continuing to do as you have done," said Hans. "My father the king has ordered me to kill the queen of Arendelle, which I could not even do with ten thousand men. But that's nothing you could do anything about."

"No, I couldn't change the mind of the king," agreed Gustav. "But a force of ten thousand men isn't as impressive as it looks; it only takes ten men concealed by darkness to wreak havoc upon a force of ten thousand."

"My thoughts exactly," lied Hans; that was only a fraction of what he had been thinking. "With the caveat that while the long night of winter may be our ally, snow will be our enemy."

"Will there be snow?" asked Gustav. "The wind is in the south."

"My life has been the punchline of joke after joke after joke, and this southerly wind is just another joke. There will be snow in Arendelle; count on it."

"Hence the surplus of fur coats, I imagine. Thirty coats for ten men?"

"Better to have too many than too few in the cold north," said Hans. "Besides, the spares may be useful for something. Thirty fur coats and pantaloons, twenty daggers, ten swords, ten bows, two hundred arrows, five grapnel hooks, five two-hundred-foot lengths of rope, and five hundred pounds of provisions are an expense that I can easily afford."

"Easily?" asked Gustav incredulously. "You now have barely enough gold to your name to pay us for this venture, after buying the ship and the supplies."

"I was never going to spend that money on anything else. Besides, by the end of this venture, I will be a king or I will be dead without issue, and either way I will not want for money."

"You agreed to pay us each one hundred gold marks upon completion of our mission, in addition to the ten-mark retainer that you have already paid to each of us. Tell me truly: do you have that gold on hand?"

Hans looked Gustav in the eye. "I have a bag containing one thousand gold marks concealed beneath my hammock in the captain's quarters—which, by the way, all are forbidden from entering but I, until I decide otherwise, or until I die. Does that satisfy you? And more to the point, will that satisfy the crew?"

Gustav looked back at Hans. "Yes, I am satisfied that your payment is good. I'm sure that Heinrich, Karl, and Rolf will be pleased as well. Alas, I do not know the remainder of the crew well enough to vouch for them..."

* * *

After informing Gustav of his mission, Hans had been introduced to three of the mercenary's acquaintances and followers: Heinrich, whose cooking Hans had had the pleasure to partake for three days now; Karl, who compensated for deafness with an extraordinary sense of sight; and Rolf, a lad even younger than Hans, who had an uncanny talent and inclination towards keeping the ship clean. Ship's cook, lookout, and cabin boy.

Six more men, undoubtedly impressed by Gustav's reputation as a mercenary, had agreed to accompany him and Hans the next day. Three brothers named Turgeis, Tirfing, and Truan had found them at the Feuerzauberer that morning and immediately agreed to serve. By noon, a former soldier named Wolfgang had instigated a brawl with Gustav, as a result of which Gustav had agreed to hire him too. Finally, in the hour after midday, two men named Alric and Ranulf had joined him as well.

Unable to believe his luck when Gustav gave the news to him that afternoon, Hans practically flew to the docks, where many ships had been moored for the winter. Hans learned that one of the ships, bearing the name _Eisengarder_ , was owned by an elderly merchant who had done well for himself over the years and was ready to enjoy the remainder of his days in peace. Purchasing the ship from this merchant was a simple task for Hans.

With that kind of luck, Hans was certain that it would need to be difficult to secure the supplies and provisions for his voyage... but no, he found all of the supplies that he would need, and by the morning of the third day since that audience with his father, his feet had felt their last of the Southern Isles' soil. Only Lars had come to the dock to see him off, and even expecting that farewell, Hans could not believe how difficult it was. Yet he also knew that further delays would attract the attention of his father, or worse, his brothers; he would rather be gone before they could torment him any longer.

* * *

On the second day out to sea, Hans saw Gustav making some unusual hand gestures to Karl, the lookout, and Karl gesturing in kind. Eventually, Karl nodded and climbed back up the mast to the crow's nest; Hans decided to ask Gustav about it.

"The lad can't hear a thing, Hans," said Gustav. "That's why his eyesight is so good, or so he tells me. He can only see; so any communication with him has to be done by sight rather than by sound. Those hand gestures we were making were my way of telling him about that gold you told me about, and his way of saying that that was okay by him."

"Communication through hand gestures... Why hadn't I thought of that before?" exclaimed Hans. Being able to communicate without making a sound would be extremely useful for stealth. "Could you teach me a few of those signals?"

"Very well," Gustav agreed. "It is a good thing to know if you wish to be understood, but do not wish to be heard."

The wind was at their back for the next two weeks, and all too soon Karl had rung the bell atop the crow's nest three times to signal that land was in sight.

Hans quit his quarters to see the line of mountains on the horizon, steadily becoming larger as the little ship closed the distance.

 _K-A-R-L, can you see the city of A-R-E-N-D-E-L-L-E,_ Hans signed. Gustav had taught Hans a great many hand signals, but Hans still did not know how to signify proper names such as Karl or Arendelle without spelling them out one letter at a time.

Fortunately, although it was rather slow, Karl understood it. After looking into his spyglass and turning his head left and right, Karl signed, _Left twenty degrees._

"Helmsman Truan, steer us starboard," said Hans. "Arendelle is to port, and we do not want them to see us before we even make landfall."

"How far do you expect us to travel by land before we even make it to Arendelle?" asked Tirfing. "The terrain is mountainous on either side of Arendelle, and the journey after our landing will be difficult, unless we land fairly close to the city."

"Farther than you hope, I am sure," replied Hans. "If the Snow Queen is alerted to our presence before we have even made landfall, she will turn the sea itself against us; no hike through the mountains could be more dire for us than that. At the very least, we will make for the coast at least fifty leagues east of Arendelle; once we are within arrow's flight of the coast, we can find a beachhead closer to Arendelle if necessary. Set the course."

Hans returned to his cabin and studied his charts and maps. His map of the land immediately surrounding Arendelle informed him of an inlet not five leagues to the east of the city; if the mountains surrounding the city blocked its view of that inlet, and if there were no enemy outposts there already, that would be an ideal location for landfall.

Hans dismissed that thought with a shudder. It was never wise to assume that the enemy would accommodate your stratagem. Elsa undoubtedly already knew about that inlet and had prepared defenses there accordingly. He would need to find a beach farther east and travel farther by land back to the west. That journey would be quiet, but it would not be quick.

The _Eisengarder_ sailed without incident over the next two days until she reached the coast of Norvig, fifty leagues east of Arendelle. The mountains here were too steep for Hans and his men to land here, even with their ropes and grapnels. Hans ordered the helmsman (Turgeis, now) to steer the ship to port, and Karl to keep an eye out for beachheads for landing.

That evening, Karl found what they were looking for.

"That beach is gravel," said Hans. "We had best not run aground. Anchor here, bring up the longboat and all of our supplies, and prepare to disembark. We will send two men at a time in the longboat, along with as many supplies as it can carry, until it is all ashore; then we will row to shore ourselves."

His orders carried out with the utmost haste, Hans packed his maps and checked the rest of his goods. The bag of gold that he had promised his men upon completion of their service was still concealed below the hammock on which he had been sleeping for nearly three weeks; he left it there. That gold, the maps, and the frozen shards of his sword had been the only personal effects he had taken with him on this voyage. His white silken finery had been exchanged for one of the thirty heavy fur coats and pairs of pantaloons that he had bought for his crew of ten.

On impulse he looked down at his bare hands; his palms and the tips of his fingers were hard and callous from the splinters that he had inflicted on them. Rubbing his hands together, he was unpleasantly reminded of leather.

He took the pouch containing the pieces of his sword and left the cabin.

By the time the last of the sunlight had departed over the sea to the west, he was ashore with the rest of his crew.

"Our journey will only become more difficult from this point onward," said Hans. "I do not know how many cliffs lie between us and the Snow Queen, but our most difficult task is yet to come. We may not survive even the journey through the mountains, nor reach the walls of Arendelle, let alone take a battle to Queen Elsa herself. I cannot compel you to follow me on this fool's errand; to be honest, I am impressed that you have brought me even this far. I have your payment ready in the captain's quarters of the _Eisengarder_ , if you wish to help yourselves to it now."

"I did not accept your offer of a hundred gold marks to do any less than bring you to the walls of Arendelle itself," said Turgeis. "I believe I speak for Tirfing and Truan as well." The other two men nodded.

"It is a fool's errand, yes," said Gustav, "but you have survived worse foolishness, Hans. You shall not fail in this fool's errand while I draw breath."

"At this distance from Arendelle," said Heinrich, "hunger will kill you long before the Snow Queen will. I'm with you until your last meal."

Karl stepped forward. _You will not leave me behind until I see the enemy city with my own eyes,_ he signed.

Hans turned to Rolf, who hesitated to speak. "Um, I'm not sure if I really belong here. I'm not a great fighter like Gustav, I can't cook nearly so well as Heinrich... And you, Hans, you dared twice and are about to dare a third time what I would scarcely attempt once. I don't know if I can fight this battle, but none of us has said anything about getting any farther than the walls of Arendelle; I'll follow you that far at least."

"In all my years of military service to the Southern Isles," said Wolfgang, "I have not seen a single prince attempt what you are about to attempt, Prince Hans. I would not desert such glorious rashness for anything. Even if you fail to get any farther than the walls, you will still be twice the man your father is, and I will be proud to have served you."

Hans blinked. Nobody had ever compared him favorably to any of his brothers, let alone his _father!_ The most puzzling thing about what Wolfgang had just said was that Hans could not detect any sarcasm whatsoever in his voice; and Hans knew more about sarcasm than he cared to know.

Not that Wolfgang's assessment was entirely laudatory, of course; there was good reason why no prince in the old soldier's memory had ever attempted what Hans was about to attempt: It was glorious, but rash.

"Alric and I would be well outvoted even if we did not want to follow you to the walls of Arendelle, Prince Hans," said Ranulf. "I like Gustav, too; and Heinrich's cooking is to die for."

"Indeed," said Alric. "When all this is over, if any of us survive, I think I'll stay with you, Gustav. You're a fine warrior, and you would be a good friend."

 _Alric and Ranulf are more loyal to Gustav than to me_ , Hans noted. _Or perhaps they realize that Gustav is much more likely to survive this foolishness than I am._

"So be it," said Hans. "Tomorrow we set forth for the walls of Arendelle. Tonight, let us get a fire going and eat our fill. Every ounce that we eat tonight is one less that we must carry on our backs... or leave behind... tomorrow.

"One more thing," he added. "Gustav shall be my second-in-command, and if I should fail, I would leave him in command."

"And what if I should fail too?" asked Gustav.

"Then... Heinrich, what say you to being third-in-command?" Hans asked.

"It pleases me to see to the company's victuals, milord, but I am equally pleased to have no concerns beyond that. I would rather serve... Wolfgang, maybe."

"Aye, I can be third-in-command," said the old soldier, "if the others agree."

In this manner, the chain of command was decided. Then they ate their fill as Hans suggested, bundled themselves against the nocturnal chill, and nine of them slept while Rolf kept watch for the first half of the night; Turgeis had agreed to be awakened at midnight for the second half of the band's vigil.

The next morning, with the harsh red light of sunrise at their backs, they began their assault on the mountains of Norvig.


	6. A Change of Course

A Change of Course

"All hands below deck and bear starboard," commanded Hans. The sun had set, and it was time to change course. His compass was in his open hand, and he stared intently at the needle. When the crew was in position as Hans had ordered, he continued: "Helmsman, steer us starboard."

Tyrfing turned the helm far to the right, counting the spokes as he did so.

The ship listed starboard, jarring Hans to the left. "Bear starboard!" he commanded, and did so, his eyes never leaving the needle as it gradually shifted to port.

"Helmsman, on my mark, steer us straight!"

The needle continued to turn port as the ship continued to turn starboard. As the ship's heading approached east-thirty-degrees-north, Hans called out "Mark!"

Tyrfing slowly turned the helm back to the left, again counting the spokes until the ship sailed straight once again.

The ship was sailing more slowly now, with the wind coming from starboard rather than from behind them, and the crew took to the oars to compensate. Though it was still night, nobody felt the need for sleep.

The sun was hidden behind the mountains, and Karl's keen eye caught the _Dane_ continuing its course towards Arendelle. Apparently the king's men had failed to notice that the _Eisengarder_ was no longer directly ahead of them.

Hans began to reconsider his plan to shake the _Dane_ off of his tail. Perhaps his father meant him no ill will after all, and had sent his agents only to help Hans in his attack on Arendelle? It seemed unlikely, given how little his father had seemed to care for the well-being of his subjects in the past, but perhaps he had had a change of heart.

And perhaps it was foolhardy to let the _Dane_ reach Arendelle so soon before Hans himself could hope to do so. Hans was sure that Sigmund would not hesitate to betray him to Elsa, if King Haakon had commanded it.

And he wouldn't put it past his father to command it.

But what was done was done. Either the _Dane_ would arrive at Arendelle within two days, and well in advance of Hans, or she would locate the _Eisengarder_ and change course accordingly.

And Hans did have a reason for changing course that even Sigmund would approve of, if he were forced to explain it: Elsa's power over the sea, against which they would have no defense at all if she sighted them before they made landfall.

Come what may, Hans decided not to waste time and energy worrying about it. Instead, he took stock of his crew, ordered Rolf, Alric, and Truan to their hammocks, and retired to his quarters to take what winks of sleep he could.

Log of the _Eisengarder_

28 December 18-

The _Eisengarder_ has reached an inlet fifty miles south-southeast of Arendelle, and here she shall be anchored. So concludes this voyage, and perhaps the _Eisengarder's_ last.

Hans wrote two items into the ship's log following the above entry: letters for the benefit of his crew, if and when they should return from their desperate mission, and then closed the book, never to open it again.

He left the captain's quarters to find that his crew were already busy preparing to disembark, so his orders were hardly necessary to spur them on. Nonetheless, he gave them: "Bring up the longboat and all of our supplies. We will send two men at a time in the longboat, along with as many supplies as it can carry, until it is all ashore; then we will row to shore ourselves."

His orders being carried out with the utmost haste, Hans packed his maps and checked the rest of his goods. The bag of gold that he had promised his men upon completion of their service was still concealed below the hammock on which he had been sleeping for nearly two weeks; he left it there. That gold, the key to these quarters, the compass, the maps, and the frozen shards of his sword had been the only personal effects he had taken with him on this voyage.

On impulse he looked down at his bare hands; his palms and the tips of his fingers were hard and callous from the splinters that he had inflicted on them. Rubbing his hands together, he was unpleasantly reminded of leather.

He took the pouch containing the pieces of his sword and left the cabin.

By the time the last of the sunlight had departed over the sea to the west, he was ashore with the rest of his crew.

"Our journey will only become more difficult from this point onward," said Hans. "I do not know how many cliffs lie between us and the Snow Queen, but our most difficult task is yet to come. We may not survive even the journey through the mountains, nor reach the walls of Arendelle, let alone take a battle to Queen Elsa herself. I cannot compel you to follow me on this fool's errand; to be honest, I am impressed that you have brought me even this far. I have your payment ready in the captain's quarters of the _Eisengarder_ , if you wish to help yourselves to it now."

"I would not accept such a reward to do any less than bring you to the walls of Arendelle itself," said Turgeis. "I believe I speak for Tyrfing and Truan as well." The other two men nodded.

"It is a fool's errand, yes," said Gustav, "but you have survived worse foolishness, Hans. You shall not fail in this fool's errand while I draw breath."

"At this distance from Arendelle," said Heinrich, "hunger will kill you long before the Snow Queen will. I'm with you until your last meal."

Karl stepped forward. _You will not leave me behind until I see the enemy city with my own eyes,_ he signed.

Hans turned to Rolf, who hesitated to speak. "I'll follow you where my brothers and Gustav will follow you. I know I'm not a great fighter like Gustav, I can't cook nearly so well as Heinrich... And you, Hans, you dared twice and are about to dare a third time what I would scarcely attempt once. I don't know if I can fight this battle, but none of us has said anything about getting any farther than the walls of Arendelle; I'll follow you that far at least; I know my brothers will."

"In all my years of military service to the Southern Isles," said Wolfgang, "I have not seen a single prince attempt what you are about to attempt, Prince Hans. I would not desert such glorious rashness for anything. Even if you fail to get any farther than the walls, you will still be twice the man your father is, and I will be proud to have served you."

Hans blinked. Nobody had ever compared him favorably to any of his brothers, let alone his _father!_ The most puzzling thing about what Wolfgang had just said was that Hans could not detect any sarcasm whatsoever in his voice; and Hans knew more about sarcasm than he cared to know.

Not that Wolfgang's assessment was entirely laudatory, of course; there was good reason why no prince in the old soldier's memory had ever attempted what Hans was about to attempt: It was glorious, but rash.

Nor could Hans forget what Wolfgang has said so long ago, in his father's throne room, about the mysterious Ingrid. Who was she? What had her final words been? Why was his father so sure that they were about Hans?

"Alric and I would be well outvoted even if we did not want to follow you to the walls of Arendelle, Prince Hans," said Ranulf. "I like Gustav, too; and Heinrich's cooking is to die for."

"Indeed," said Alric. "When all this is over, if any of us survive, I think I'll stay with you, Gustav. You're a fine warrior, and you would be a good friend."

 _Alric and Ranulf are more loyal to Gustav than to me,_ Hans noted. _Or perhaps they realize that Gustav is much more likely to survive this foolishness than I am._

"So be it," said Hans. "Tomorrow we set forth for the walls of Arendelle. Tonight, let us get a fire going and eat our fill. Every ounce that we eat tonight is one less that we must carry on our backs... or leave behind... tomorrow.

"One more thing," he added. "Gustav shall be my second-in-command, and if I should fail, I would leave him in command."

"And what if I should fail too?" asked Gustav.

"Then... Heinrich, what say you to being third-in-command?" Hans asked.

"It pleases me to see to the company's victuals, milord, but I am equally pleased to have no concerns beyond that. I would rather serve... Wolfgang, maybe."

"Aye, I can be third-in-command," said the old soldier, "if the others agree."

In this manner, the chain of command was decided. Then they ate their fill as Hans suggested, bundled themselves against the nocturnal chill, and nine of them slept while Rolf kept watch for the first half of the night; Turgeis had agreed to be awakened at midnight for the second half of the band's vigil.

The next morning, with the harsh red light of sunrise causing the sky to glow above the mountains before them, they began their assault on the mountains of Norvig.

As if the red sunrise were an ill omen, Hans saw the clouds gather above him throughout the afternoon of that first day of their earthbound journey: clouds heavy with snow, though none covered the mountains yet except at their very peaks.

The company, too, saw that their journey threatened to become much more difficult tomorrow than it was today, and so they pressed onward with the utmost haste.

Evening and snowfall came; Karl set out with a bow and came back with the carcass of a deer to supplement their dwindling provisions.

So the journey continued. Twice it was necessary to use their ropes and grapnels to scale an otherwise impassable cliff, but every day they progressed westward and northward, to Arendelle.

The second of those climbs proved unusually difficult for Hans. The snow was falling particularly hard that day, and Hans could have sworn that it was weighing him down worse than his companions; try as he might, he could not reach the top of the cliff on his own power. Even as Rolf, the second-last man to reach the top, unhooked his grapnel and coiled up his rope, Hans was only halfway up his own rope. Inch by torturous inch he ascended, his arms and chest burning with the exertion while his companions took stock of themselves. Gustav and Wolfgang were huddled around the grapnel, looking down the rope to Hans, exhorting him as best they could.

"Should we pull him up?" asked Tyrfing. "We three alone could pull him to the top as easily as any fisherman could pull a fish out of water."

"And with as much injury to Hans as the fisherman would inflict on the fish," replied Gustav. "His arms are strong yet, and I will not pull him up until they are in danger of failing."

"And if you misjudge his strength?" Tyrfing countered.

"Then he never had a prayer against Queen Elsa," argued Wolfgang. "And of such he will be convinced, if he does not achieve the height of this cliff himself. He may yet conquer her if he succeeds in this ordeal; he certainly will not conquer her if he does not."

None of this reached Hans' ears through the howling wind as he climbed up, handwidth by handwidth, until at last he was within reach of the grapnel.

And then the fire in his arms began to fade. The last of his strength was failing him.

 _I could just let go,_ he thought to himself. _I never could have defeated Queen Elsa at the height of her power, if even this cliff defeats me so easily._

 _Nobody would even know, except my men._

 _Anna would never know._

 _Elsa would never know._

 _Lars would never know._

Then Hans remembered his oath to Lars, that they would meet again in Arendelle, still many miles away.

He remembered his attempt on Elsa's life, and the ensuing grudge between the royalty of Arendelle and the Seven Isles: a grudge that could only be settled in one of two ways.

He looked up to see Gustav, less than an arm's length away now, looking down at him, mouthing words that nobody could hear, but Hans could see:

Don't you dare let go.

One of the fiery needles in Hans' heart seemed to disappear as Gustav reached slowly towards him, offering his hand.

With what was left of his strength, Hans reached his hand out to meet it.

As Gustav and Wolfgang assisted him away from the cliff and gathered up his rope, Hans found that he lacked the strength to do more than raise a few bites of well-cooked venison to his mouth. Karl found a cave nearby where they could take shelter from the storm; Alric laid out kindling and logs for a fire while Truan prepared flint and steel to ignite them. Gustav and Wolfgang each held one of Hans' arms over their shoulders, carrying him into the warmth and the light, their march not faltering even as they heard their commander's groans of discomfort.

"We are with you, Hans," Gustav said in an attempt to comfort him. "We will not let the snow or the frigid air kill you, even if Elsa herself commands it."

Hans dared not tell Gustav how powerless he would be to stop her.

Yet as weak as Hans was now, he would be stronger tomorrow. The heat of the flame within this cave was as painful as the cold wind without, but that heat would strengthen him against what would follow in the coming days.

And in those days, he would become stronger still. By the time he reached Arendelle, he would be strong enough to make Elsa pay dearly for his life. Lacking any sort of magical power to match Elsa's, Hans could hope for no better fate than that: To die in glorious battle, against a foe that he never had any hope of defeating.

Even Soren would be proud of him for that.

On the evening of the second day after that painful climb, they again came within sight of Arendelle. Their journey was downward now, and despite the ankle-deep blanket of fresh snow, it promised to be much easier now.

"We have reached the walls of Arendelle," Hans said. "Tonight, at midnight, I shall set out and attempt to scale the walls. You have all served me better than I could have hoped, and if I should survive this night, I will remember it. But here I must leave you; thanks to Karl's hunting and Heinrich's cooking, we have used up less than half of our provisions, and I am confident that you can all make your way back to the _Eisengarder_ from here, where your payment awaits. From there, you may set forth wherever you will."

Rolf had been quick to agree to those terms, and Heinrich and Karl had agreed nearly as quickly. Alric and Ranulf, knowing that those three men made up the core of Gustav's company, and eager to remain part of it, also agreed to stay behind. Truan, Turgeis, and Tyrfing remained silent, their faces impassive.

Only Gustav and Wolfgang seemed to disagree with Hans' plan, but Hans was content to let them whisper to each other while he took some rest. He checked his pouch full of shattered steel and was satisfied that every shard was still present.

Three hours after sunset, Hans set forth down the wooded hill toward Arendelle. He cursed the snow under his feet, but there was no help for it; he would not be able to sweep the ground behind him.

He looked up at the trees. Could he, perhaps, climb one of them and leap from branch to branch?

No; even with the exertions of the last few days and the meals and rests following them, he wasn't that agile. But there were tall oak trees fairly close to the walls of the city; perhaps he could climb one of them and leap the wall that way.

As it turned out, the guards were sparse enough that Hans found it extremely easy to avoid being seen even as he climbed a tree and leapt onto the wall. Then he jumped down, crouching into a ball as he was about to hit the ground, and rolled to disperse the momentum of his fall.

Then he realized that another dark figure had jumped the wall behind him.

It was Gustav.

 _I told you to stay behind_ , Hans signed, at once angry at Gustav's indubordination and grateful that he could express that anger silently, through the gestures that Gustav had taught him.

 _Wolfgang will lead my men in my absence; I could not abandon you,_ signed Gustav.

 _I came here to die_ , signed Hans, _and I will not let you die with me_.

 _I knew that the moment I met you,_ signed Gustav. _You may have fooled the others, but I know all too well the look of a man who seeks death. While I live, you shall not find it even here, in the lair of the Snow Queen herself._

 _Your loyalty is foolish and misplaced,_ signed Hans. But precious time was being wasted as they argued, and while he was sure that his hours were numbered, he wanted to waste as few of them as possible except in his final, desperate attack against Elsa.

So Hans crept through the shadows towards the palace, feeling rather than hearing Gustav's footsteps behind him. Neither man spoke, and Hans did not look back to see if Gustav was signing anything to him.

So it was that they reached the walls of the castle. With trepidation Hans skirted the base of the wall, looking for a dark window to infiltrate. He found one all too easily, slipped in all too easily, and heard all too much dead silence in the store room in which he found himself.

Gustav slipped through the window behind him and silently drew his sword while Hans listened at the door.

Silence.

He opened the door.

A hallway stretched before him. To his left, a wall; to his right, another hallway.

 _Where are the guards?_ Hans wondered. _There were few enough on the outer walls, but none I have seen inside the palace. What sort of queen doesn't need guards?_

Elsa could conjure guards out of snow, of course; Hans had had the misfortune of crossing one of them last summer; but the air here wasn't cold enough to accommodate a snowman of that sort.

He passed through the doorway and walked down the hallway to his right. If he remembered this castle's architecture correctly, Elsa's bedroom should be in that direction.

And Anna's too. Hans' mouth was suddenly dry with nerves. He would be lucky to enjoy a quick death at Elsa's hands rather than... whatever Anna could do to him.

It was at this moment, of course, that his luck ran out, as Hans bumped into something soft, powdery, three feet high... and cold.

It was a stack of three balls, each smaller than the one below it. A goofy-looking face adorned the uppermost ball of snow, with black eyes, a long orange nose, and a weird, grinning mouth.

"Hi!" the snowman said, his high-pitched voice echoing through the hallway. "I'm Olaf, and I like warm hugs!"

Hans struggled against this creature's cold embrace as best he could, but Gustav was already fifteen feet ahead of him by the time Hans had freed himself.

"Run!" Hans commanded.

And Gustav did run... but not in the direction that Hans had wanted.

They were approaching the end of the hallway when a door opened on their right, and a pale figure stepped out.

Her dressing gown was, if anything, whiter than her skin and hair, as if made out of fresh snow. And now her arm was raised against Gustav, still charging towards her, his sword raised in preparation for an attack.

A blast of ice struck Gustav in the arm, knocking the sword out of his hand and pinning him to the opposite wall. Hans was relieved to see him bend his head forward against the blow, taking the brunt of the wall's mass against his back.

Then he saw that Gustav's wrist was chained to the wall with a manacle of ice.

He charged forward, seizing the manacle, which cracked under his gloves. Taking no more than a second to ensure that Gustav was able to stand on his own, Hans commanded him again: "Run!"

Then Hans turned to face his old enemy. Already he could see the look of recognition and anger in her eyes. Even the flaming shards in his heart would not survive long against such cold fury.

He drew his broken stump of a sword, still cold with frost, and charged against her.

She shouted, and a blast of snow blew against him, but still he ran towards her. The fire grew unbearably hot within him, so much the faster to burn out, he knew, as his gloved left hand closed on her bare right hand.

But Gustav had not moved an inch. "Hans!" he cried.

"I can't hold her off very long!" Hans replied, knowing in his heart of hearts that it wasn't true; he had endured her blasts of frost too well and forced her back against the wall too easily. With one thrust of his icy blade, her death would be all too quick. "Save yourself!" he instead commanded.

"I am not going anywhere without you!" Gustav objected.

Hans released his grip on Elsa, and on his broken blade. He knew now that he had struggled and fought for nothing. The hilt rang sharply against the stone floor of the hallway.

"Then you are not going anywhere at all," Hans answered, putting his arms up in a gesture of surrender to the trembling woman before him.

The snowman was hopping towards them now, and Anna was now emerging from another door on the left.

"Olaf, Anna," said the queen, "take the accomplice into custody." She gestured towards Gustav.

"And what of Hans?" Anna asked, spitting the last word with audible venom.

"Hans is mine."


	7. A Queen's Captive

A Queen's Captive

Alas, Elsa had refused Hans the mercy of a quick death.

Shackles of iron bound his wrists to a wall in a room that he vaguely recognized; unfortunately, Elsa must have had some other cell for Gustav, as he was not here.

"Why did you return to my castle, Hans? And why did you attack me?"

Hans was surprised at how calm Elsa sounded. Of course he had always found it hard to read her, but even now that she should have been boiling with rage... or freezing, perhaps... she gave no sign of it.

Utterly defeated he may have been, but Hans would never tell her what his father had ordered him to do. "I have no reason to tell you the truth," he answered. Given how many lies he had told her and Anna in the past, it seemed ridiculous indeed to tell her the truth only now. "And you would have no reason to believe me even if I did. You will learn nothing by this interrogation."

Elsa blinked, undoubtedly unsettled by Hans' audacity in speaking thus to his jailer. She, unlike Hans' brothers, had no idea how to deal with prisoners.

"I hoped it would not come to this," said Elsa, though her voice betrayed no regret. "I hoped that your heart might have thawed in the months since I sent you back to your brothers. Alas, I must charge you with trespass and attempted regicide, and sentence you to death, to be carried out at dawn."

Hans looked at Elsa's face, as devoid of emotion as on the night of her coronation, unless there was perhaps more wetness in her eyes than he had remembered seeing earlier tonight. But why would she even come close to shedding tears for him of all people? And more importantly...

"Why not now?" he asked.

There was no mistaking the widening of her eyes at that remark, or the way her pale face turned whiter with fear. She turned quickly away from him and left the room, shutting the door behind her, leaving his question unanswered, yet making the answer all too clear.

* * *

Elsa was still struggling to regain her composure when she found her way to the drawing room, where she intended to speak to Anna. She was too unsettled by the attack tonight to get any more sleep, and she was sure that Anna was too.

Indeed, Anna was already in the drawing room, looking well despite her lack of sleep. From the look on her face, though, she was clearly worried about Elsa.

"Elsa! Are you alright? What happened?"

"I am as well as anyone can be under these circumstances, Anna."

"You look like you have seen a ghost, or a dead man!"

"I have seen a man who will be dead within seven hours."

"You're going to kill Hans? I thought you would be more pleased."

"I do not like killing, no matter how necessary it may be." Elsa sat down on the couch. "And Hans is... as you remember him."

"I should never have let him go back to the Southern Isles in one piece," said Anna, sitting beside Elsa on the couch. "I'm sorry, Elsa."

"No apology needed," Elsa answered. "Things could have been much worse with the Southern Isles if we hadn't; and they still might, now that I have sentenced him to death. A queen must constantly be cautious about her neighbors, and my spies tell me that Hans is not nearly as dangerous as his brothers. They will bring us trouble long after Hans is gone; I am sure of it."

"How could they be worse than Hans?"

"From what he told me tonight, and from what I have learned about his family over the last month, I am certain that his brothers made him what he is."

"What? I thought you of all people would know better than to believe anything that snake said!"

"Then perhaps you would be so kind as to give me your opinion, knowing no more about Hans than you know already: Would he have any reason to tell me the truth?"

"Of course not. It would do him no good to tell you the truth. And even if he did, why should you believe him?"

"And what would I learn, then, by interrogating him?"

"Nothing."

"Your words match his perfectly: 'I have no reason to tell you the truth. And you would have no reason to believe me even if I did. You will learn nothing by interrogating me.'"

"What does that have to do with his brothers?"

"He assumed that I would never believe anything he told me. Yet I have verified his claims and found them to be accurate. In short, I gave him the benefit of the doubt. And if anyone else had ever done so, he would have urged me to verify his claims rather than assume that I would never believe him."

"Which means that nobody else ever believed him," whispered Anna. "They _are_ as cruel as he said they were!"

"And older, and more experienced in military and political strife... in short, more dangerous."

"And now that you're taking their brother's life, a confrontation with them is inevitable, isn't it?"

"I fear so, Anna."

* * *

Dawn came at last, lightening the sky outside the window the looked down upon Hans, promising to snuff out the hateful blaze in the middle of Hans' chest. Those burning knives would cut him no longer.

Hans had no time for further introspection; a guard was just now unlocking the door to his cell. Hans was quick to follow him... too quick, perhaps. He felt the eyes of many other guards upon him as they walked down the halls of the palace to the front gate.

The guards led Hans to a raised wooden plaftorm in the plaza just outside the palace. Strangely, Hans could not see either gallows or chopping block on the platform, nor any other obvious means of execution.

The guards led Hans to one edge of the platform, and he saw Gustav, fettered as securely as Hans himself, being led to the other.

Then Elsa herself came out of the gates, dressed in the darkest robe Hans had ever seen, concealing every curve of her body more thoroughly than the night sky. Between her too-black vestments and her pale hands and face, the overall effect of her appearance was awesome.

She walked up to the middle of the platform and addressed the crowd gathered before it:

"Hans Westergaard has violated his exile from Arendelle, trespassed into my palace and attempted to kill me, your Queen. Gustav Derringer, too, stands accused of being an accomplice and accessory to these crimes. If any man or woman who serves me would speak in their defense, speak now or forever hold your peace."

"I will speak for Hans," called an elderly lady from near the front of the crowd. "Hans ruled Arendelle as fairly as any king has ever ruled in a crisis, when- begging your forgiveness, Your Majesty- you conjured the blizzard last summer."

 _Curse them,_ Hans thought. _If my decision to spare their lives moves Elsa to spare mine..._ His heart quickened its excruciating drumbeat against the blades of fire.

"What did he do to convince you of that?" asked Anna incredulously.

"He distributed blankets to everyone in Arendelle and made sure that everyone was warm. He even opened the palace to us and gave everyone hot soup to ward away the chill. I would not be alive if it weren't for him."

"Me neither," called another man from the middle of the crowd. Soon the entire crowd was murmuring the same praise, until Elsa held up her hand.

"I hear your petition, and I shall take it into account when I pass sentence on Hans. At the very least, he shall not die in fetters for his service to my people." She turned her head to her right, towards the guards surrounding Hans. "Guards! Unlock Hans' shackles."

The guards, too, were quick to remove the iron from Hans' wrists and ankles; perhaps they too would have spoken, if service to their queen did not prohibit it.

"You are not free to leave, Hans," the queen continued, fixing the prince with her icy gaze. "If you attempt to escape, or to assault me again, my men will strike you down where you stand, or I will."

Hans nodded his acknowledgment. He now knew what he had to do to provoke the fatal blow.

And then his gaze turned to Gustav, standing in chains behind Elsa; Elsa turned her head to follow his gaze.

"Who will speak for Gustav?" Elsa asked the crowd, turning her head left and right, her eyes lingering on Hans for a few seconds as if daring him to speak.

Silence permeated the plaza for what felt like an hour but could not have been more than a minute, until Elsa turned and approached the helpless warrior.

Hans saw the queen raise her right hand in a commanding gesture towards him; he could tell that they were speaking quietly but could not make out what they were saying.

The treacherous witch was going to kill Gustav, Hans knew. Gustav, whose only crime against her had been to follow him, Hans, into Arendelle.

His feet were in motion before he could stop them, and most importantly, before the guards could stop them. The soft whir of metal against leather was clearly audible as the guards drew their swords, but they did not run nearly as fast as Hans ran. The disgraced prince closed the distance between himself and Elsa with an uncanny speed.

As he overtook the queen on her right, Hans pivoted on his left foot to interpose himself between her and her prisoner and provoked Elsa's lethal assault as best he could: He seized her by the wrist, pointed her hand at his chest, and cried:

" **I'm** the one you wa-!"

Elsa's ice cut off his final word as it struck his chest, forcing the breath out of him, promising to quench the unbearable inferno within.

* * *

The silence following Elsa's second question weighed more heavily on her than she thought it would. Nobody dared to speak up in defense of Gustav, whom nobody in Arendelle knew except as Hans' accomplice in an attempt on her life.

His association with Hans, of course, would make him equally guilty in Anna's eyes. But to let him die in chains...

Elsa knew what duty demanded of her, and no amount of pity could deter her from it. Gustav had assaulted her; he must be made to pay the price.

Perhaps Hans would interfere and make her predicament much simpler. Last night his behavior had been most unusual; he was clearly more interested in keeping Gustav safe than in trying to kill her.

In fact, he had broken the icy shackle on Gustav's wrist entirely too easily; nor had the flurry of snow and arctic wind slowed him down nearly as much as it should have. Elsa doubted that even Hans knew how close he had come to killing her.

After all, he had severely underestimated how long he had been able to "hold her off." If not for his unlikely surrender, he might still be fighting now.

Elsa was now three feet away from Gustav, aiming her hand at the middle of his chest, preparing her deadliest magic.

As the icy power gathered within her hand, Elsa realized that she had chosen wisely. If Hans, now unfettered, decided to let his accomplice die in this way, as he had once left Anna to die, everyone in Arendelle would know what a coward he truly was.

Gustav was looking her in the eye. "I will not let him die alone," he spat at Elsa.

"It is beyond your power to stop him," Elsa spat back. "Your faith in Hans is no less than my sister's was, once. And so I wonder: Will he leave _you_ to die too?" The heavy sound of boots on the planks behind her tempted her to turn away from Gustav, but she resisted. With her left hand, she made a gesture of shielding about herself; if Hans dared to lay a hand on her, it would be his own hand that paid the price.

"No... you wouldn't dare!" pleaded Gustav.

"Dare what?" asked Elsa, her right hand still aimed at him, her magic growing in power as the footsteps behind her grew louder. The sound of footfalls passed her right ear, and suddenly Hans was standing between her and Gustav. Elsa could barely conceal her astonishment as he seized her by the wrist and held her hand steady against his chest.

" **I'm** the one you want!" Elsa unleashed her magic to strike Hans' heart before the final word was fully out of his lips, but she had heard him clearly enough.

Her warding spell had done nothing to stop Hans' hand, and she was sure that her icy shot had not even touched his heart, even though he had made sure to aim it true.

For an act of true love can thaw a frozen heart.

But what was happening now was much more dire than the thawing of a frozen heart; the air in front of her felt uncomfortably warm, and now Hans was clutching his chest, his face a mask of pain and disbelief.

As he took in a deep breath and raised his gloved left hand to his chest to cover a cough, the glove burst into noxious flames.

"Guards! Get off the scaffold, **now!** " commanded Elsa. "And take Gustav with you!"


	8. A Sorcerer's Conflagration

6\. A Sorcerer's Conflagration

 _I will consider our score settled with my death..._

Elsa had suppressed a shudder at Hans' final words. Far from the proud prince who had once wooed her sister, usurped Arendelle in their absence, and attempted to kill both of them when they returned, it was a broken man who stood before her now, his pride drowned in despair.

 _But if you lay so much as a **snowflake** on Gustav..._

Hans had no power to deliver on his threat, of course, but if what he said was true, he valued Gustav's life more dearly than his own.

Of course, as Anna had so tersely pointed out last night, Elsa could not trust that what Hans said was true. Fortunately, though she could not trust it, she could easily verify it.

 _Is that so?_ she had asked. _Guards! Unfetter him..._

So it was that Hans was now free to come to Gustav's defense, if he so wished... though escape or assault were still beyond him. What remained of his sword, still cold from when it had struck Anna's frozen body so long ago, was now in her possession, on display opposite her bed, as a nightly reminder of Hans' treachery last summer.

Elsa approached the other captive, the hardened soldier who had accompanied Hans' trespass, until she stood five times her arm's length away and raised her right hand, pointing it at his chest.

This man was willing to die for Hans, just as Anna had been willing to die for her, Elsa. If that was an act of true love, capable of thawing a frozen heart...

She heard footsteps behind her.

She had unchained Hans and left ample room for him to block her attack, precisely for this purpose, but she did not dare look back to confirm that it was Hans approaching her.

She began to allow the icy power to coalesce just outside of her fingertips, preparing to let it fly against Gustav.

The footsteps circled around her right side, and from the corner of her right eye, she saw Hans turning and stepping left, blocking her view of Gustav. Rage burned in his eyes as he exclaimed, " **I'm** the one you want!"

The ice was released, directly into Hans' chest, and the rage in his eyes turned into shock and pain at the impact. A tortured gasp drew air into his lungs, and only one word escaped his lips:

"Impossible..."

* * *

 _How could ice feel so hot?_

The only word he could think of to describe his new predicament had escaped his lips before he could stop it.

The ice should have stopped the frantic beating of his heart cold; Elsa's aim had been true. But his heart continued to beat as fast as before, and what was more, it seemed to be pumping _fire_ into his arteries.

He drew in another tortured breath, and something hot forced itself out of his lungs in a tremendous cough. He raised his left hand to block his cough, and the glove caught fire and disintegrated into ash within seconds.

 _Thump. Thump. Thump._ The fire was spreading farther along his limbs with every beat of that hateful drum.

"Get off the scaffold!" a feminine voice commanded from somewhere far away.

 _Of all the phenomenal cosmic **jokes**..._

Hans jumped down from the platform, which was now catching fire with every step he took, and the crowd parted to make way for him. He fled to the northwestern corner of Arendelle, his hands shooting bursts of flame skyward with every fifth step, and found his way clear out of the city. None dared to bar his escape.

* * *

Elsa had wasted no time in ordering the guards to vacate the wooden scaffold when she first saw the flames erupting from Hans. Gustav, too, had jumped off of the platform and made his way to the front gates of the palace.

"What happened?" asked Anna. "What set fire to the scaffold?"

"Hans," said Elsa. "Somehow, I set fire to his heart. I don't understand it either."

"We should talk to the trolls," suggested Kristoff. "We know too little about fire magic, and anything they could tell us would be useful."

"He's out of our kingdom," said Anna, watching Hans retreat northward, "and out of our lives. Let him remain so."

"I cannot let such dangerous magic go unchecked," Elsa replied.

"Then check it; he is still no match for you," suggested Anna. "He hasn't exactly brought a premature summer upon Arendelle."

"That would put him well _into_ my life, and it would distract me from affairs of state," said Elsa. A few seconds later, she came to a decision: "Anna, I must leave you in command of Arendelle in my absence. Kristoff, go to the trolls and inform them that the queen needs whatever help she can get in dealing with an enemy sorcerer who is well known for his treachery; then report back to me."

"Yes, Your Majesty: Go to the trolls, tell them you're fighting an enemy sorcerer, ask for their help, and report back to you... but where will I find you?"

"I will be wherever Hans is," said Elsa, looking at the trail of melted snow to the northwest, "and finding _him_ should be easy enough _._ "

"I don't want you to get hurt, Elsa," said Anna. "You know you can't trust Hans."

"True," replied Elsa, turning her gaze to Gustav, "but I know who can."

* * *

Hans fled north, through the woods and into the northern mountains. Winter had engulfed this upper, northern region more thoroughly, and Hans might have had great difficulty trudging northward...

...if his strange new powers had not been strong enough to melt and boil the snow ahead of him into steam. Thankfully, none of the trees had caught fire yet; hopefully, now that he was clear of the most densely forested regions of the foothills, none ever would.

How thoroughly his fortunes had reversed, Hans thought, staring at his shadow ahead of him as he ran, marveling at how his fiery magic seemed to make that shadow dance to and fro although his own path was straight. Only about twelve hours ago, he had infiltrated Arendelle in search of death, and Gustav—curse and bless him—had refused to let him go alone.

Now his promised execution had gone awry... just as Elsa's coronation had gone awry six months ago. Now he was fleeing north, perhaps on the exact same trail that Elsa herself had blazed last summer. If there was any sign of such a thing, though, it was concealed under nearly two feet of natural snow.

No... Hans could remember some of these landmarks well enough, with or without ice. He had passed by Oaken's Trading Post and Sauna a few hours ago; now he was passing through the same grove that Elsa had frozen into a work of art last summer. This was the same trail on which he had led the soldiers of Arendelle and Weselton in their search for...

Hans thrust that thought away, lest his rage erupt in deadly flame.

He kept moving, grateful that the strenuous physical activity gave his mind something to focus on other than the past. He kept walking, and walking, until the sun on his left was dark orange, and his shadow played across the snow on his right.

Then he remembered the ice palace, and the white, gleaming bridge leading up to it, just as they came once again into his sight.

The snow was gleaming white where his magic had not plowed through it, and he could not see a single footprint except where his own boots had imprinted the muddy earth, which was already congealing again as his fiery magic gave way once again to the natural chill of winter.

He climbed the bridge, marveling that its chill did not budge a degree despite the heat of his body and his magic. He sat at the threshold of the palace gate and looked out at the kingdom of isolation that Elsa had once ruled for a few days. Now it was him, Hans, sitting on that... throne...

He looked up at the darkening sky, only just beginning to come to life with starlight. He remembered from his astronomy lessons that stars actually glowed as hot and bright as the sun, although from a much greater distance. He wondered if stars or sun could glow as hot or as bright as the magic that was consuming him, the burning fire of rage at his father and brothers for the hell that they had made of his life; the fire of fear for the lives of his men, whom he had abandoned to what he had thought to be a more lenient fate; the fire of fear that that fate might not have been so lenient after all...

And the fire of love, if love it was, that urged him to repay Gustav's loyalty to him by laying down his own life in exchange for... however many seconds it took Elsa to strike Gustav a second time, when Hans was not there to stop it.

 _The Westergaards are lions, not mice!_ His father had so often jeered at him for not being as loud, as violent, as obnoxious as his other brothers.

 _To be a big boy, in this family, your heart would have to be as cold as ice,_ Lars had said once, when Hans was very young. At the time, Hans had taken it as an admonition; in retrospect, after that evening in the library when Lars praised Hans for not being a killer, Hans now saw it as a condemnation of the rest of their brothers.

Hans was too tired to keep running; he was too tired even to rise to his feet now, let alone to stop the memories of last summer.

 _Just take care of my sister!_

 _If you lay so much as a **snowflake** on Gustav..._

 _Is that so? Guards! Unfetter him... Do not harm him, yet._

 _Your sister is dead; she died because of you!_

Hans and Elsa; Anna and Hans; Elsa and Gustav... The images blurred together as though in a twisted mirror. Again Hans saw Anna coming between himself and Elsa just as he was about to strike the queen down. Again he saw Elsa preparing to strike Gustav down, and felt himself hurry to block her blast of ice even at the cost of his own life... no, _especially_ at the cost of his own life.

Was that how Anna had felt after he had abandoned her to an icy death, and condemned her sister to the same?

He let that thought run its course. He could not stop the memories and thoughts from coursing through his mind, and so he made no effort to do so.

 _Let it go._

So much rage had ruled his life until now, so much hatred. To let it go would be to explode in such a fiery eruption...

But he had hidden himself so deeply within his fortress of sadness that he had nowhere left to hide except in plain sight. He had to open that dreadful portal... and he had to walk out.

Hans had never been a religious man, and his one visit to Father Kierkegaard last month did not change that. For his crimes against Anna and Elsa... crimes that pointed no small amount of his rage inwards... there may be no forgiveness. He was already hell-bound.

"Let the flame burn bright..." breathed Hans, and it did. For all of its heat, though it was already warping the long, thin ice of the palace gates, he didn't feel any discomfort at all. The fire in his blood was only a pleasant warmth to him now.

 _Snow glows white on the mountain tonight;_

 _Only footprints are my own._

 _A kingdom of isolation_

 _And I'm sitting on the throne._

 _The stars are glowing like the burning fire within._

 _How did it survive such an icy sin?_

" _The Westergaards are lions, not mice."_

" _Be a big boy; your heart must be like ice."_

" _Your sister died because of you."_

 _None of that was true._

 _Let it go; let it go._

 _Let go of my rage and hate._

 _Let it go; let it go._

 _Turn and walk right out the gate._

 _I don't care_

 _How they're keeping score._

 _Let the flame burn bright;_

 _The heat doesn't bother me anymore._

Hours had passed before Hans looked up again at the stars and saw that they had shifted; he had regained enough strength to push himself to his feet and to look around at the mountainous landscape around him.

Elsa's palace was high up the mountain, but not at the very summit. Hans walked around it to the side of the mountain and climbed... and climbed... and climbed.

From the peak of the mountain, even the palace looked like a toy... a toy broken on one side by a careless kick. The magical fire had melted away the gate and the better part of the wall in which it had been set.

The sight reminded him of the endless fears that he had attempted to shut out throughout his life; he had carefully built up so many walls to block them out, and now that he had taken his first steps outside of that impregnable fortress, he smiled to see its empty walls crumble behind him.

Now he was free; free to learn more about his strange new power; free to learn the utmost limits of what that fire could burn and melt; free of all the windows and doors and walls that had constrained him in the past: He was free.

The stars were glowing above his head, and he felt their distant heat as though it were from his own body. He took off his right glove and cast it to the wind, and he looked down at the bare palms of his hands, scarred and callous from his self-mutilation. Raising his arms to the heavens, he drew the flame into his hands until scar and callus were burned away, leaving his flesh pink and pure. Now no one would ever see how badly he had been hurt before.

 _It's funny how some distance_

 _Made all my life seem small_

 _When I saw the fears besieging_

 _Break down my empty wall._

 _It's time to learn about my power_

 _To see how hot my flame can scour._

 _No windows, doors, or walls for me..._

 _I'm free._

 _Let it go; let it go._

 _I'm one with the blazing stars._

 _Let it go; let it go._

 _You'll never see my scars._

 _Here I stand_

 _As strong as Thor._

 _Let the flame burn bright._

A deep pulse rumbled beneath his feet, in rhythm with his own molten heart. He sent his hottest flames downward, into the mountain itself, and stared at the snow melting into water and boiling into steam; the earth beneath it also melting and bubbling up in a blast of lava. A great cloud of ash formed above the mountain, and lava was flowing freely now from its peak.

The ash had cut into Hans' furs, leaving them in tatters, and Hans used his magic to burn them away. With threads of flame he wove a new garment for himself, similar to his old princely regalia but in red rather than white, and with a golden bird emblazoned on the chest.

He briefly considered creating gloves to complement his attire, but decided instead to leave his hands bare: He no longer had any physical scars to conceal.

But his hands still felt the pain of the splinters, even if they were no longer visible. What had happened to him over the last twenty years could not be completely burned away. He could not completely undo the past.

The lava was flowing down to the palace now, but it was cooling as it approached. Cracks were forming in the icy walls, but they held firm as the lava froze into stone around it, and the remaining liquid detoured downhill from that wall of stone, forming a glowing moat in the chasm spanned by the icy bridge.

The cloud of dark grey dust above him was falling back to the earth, covering everything, just as the sun began to peek over the eastern horizon. Amid the lava and ashes, Hans marveled at the warmth and beauty of that golden orb. To think that it once pained his eyes... Even looking directly into its radiance did not bother him now. He now had the power to confront the darkness that had haunted him for decades, and he was prepared for war.

 _My magic rages through the earth into the sky._

 _My soul is bare to anyone who'd dare to see me cry._

 _And one thought's forged and tempered with a furnace blast:_

 _There is no going back; I cannot change the past._

 _Let it go; let it go._

 _I'll shine in the sun's pure light._

 _Let it go; let it go._

 _The darkness I will fight._

 _Here I stand_

 _Prepared for war._

 _Let the flame burn bright._

 _The light doesn't bother me anymore._

* * *

"Hans!" a man shouted.

Hans turned his gaze to the bridge, still strong above the rising heat of the glowing stone, still strong beneath the feet of the nine men now crossing towards the ash-stained walls and spires of Elsa's palace. At their head was Wolfgang, followed by Karl, followed by Rolf, Heinrich, Turgeis, Truan, Tyrfing, Alric, and Ranulf.

Hans descended to the blasted gates of the palace faster than he had thought possible. He had all but forgotten about the nine men he had abandoned at the walls of Arendelle, but clearly they had not forgotten about him.

"Wolfgang!" Hans shouted. "How did you...? I thought you were going back to the ship!"

"Karl saw everything," said Wolfgang. "How the Snow Queen tried to strike down Gustav; how you blocked her attack... how you set fire to the scaffold. After that, it was easy to follow your trail."

"But why?" Hans asked. "You have fulfilled your oath to me and earned your pay; you couldn't have gone all the way back to the ship and then caught up to me already."

"You continue to fight the Snow Queen, do you not?" asked Truan. "For the chance to fight beside you against the Snow Queen, I would gladly repay that wage."

"Probably. She was willing to strike down Gustav once, and I could only block that one attack. Whatever she has done to him in my absence, I must repay in full."

"Excellent," said Tyrfing. "When you bring battle to the Snow Queen, we will be there."

"Not yet, Tyrfing," said Hans, unpleasant memories of last summer coming back to him. "I am still not entirely sure that I want Elsa dead, at least until I know for sure what she has done to Gustav. I was overly hasty in my last attempt on her life because I believed that she had already killed Anna; I cannot afford to make that mistake a second time."

"And you call yourself 'prepared for war...'" Turgeis muttered.

"'Prepared for war' means that I am willing and able to fight when necessary," said Hans. "It does not mean that I will go looking for a fight when it is unnecessary. I will deal with Elsa appropriately, but only when I know exactly what would be appropriate. Twice I have attacked her, and twice she has defeated me. I must temper my haste. This fiery magic will do nothing for me if I do not have a clear view of where to aim it, and right now I do not."

 _So you need to know more about the Snow Queen_ , _to figure out where and when to attack,_ signed Karl. Hans turned to him in surprise; surely he hadn't actually heard Hans!

"That is correct," said Hans. "I must learn what my options are before making my choice, as Lars would say."

"Lars?" asked Heinrich.

"The man who saw me off before we departed from the Southern Isles," explained Hans.

"Did Karl hear what you said earlier?" asked Alric. "I thought he couldn't."

 _I can see the letters on your lips,_ signed Karl. _You spoke of a clear view of where to aim your fiery magic._

"He read my lips," said Hans, "and quite accurately."

Karl nodded and turned his gaze southward, surveying the icy trail that Hans had blazed up the mountain.

"What are we going to do now, though?" asked Ranulf. "We can't find out anything about the Snow Queen from up here."

"I can't believe that she would let me remain at large after she failed to execute me," answered Hans. "And I did leave a clear trail for her to follow, if she so wishes. So for now, all we have to do is wait. If nothing happens by the day after tomorrow, we'll come up with a new plan."

* * *

"Do you really think that I would do _anything_ for you?" Gustav asked.

He was trapped in a box made of ice, pulled by some sort of reindeer-like creature made of snow, and Elsa was riding that creature, using her icy magic to freeze what little water on this trail remained liquid.

"No," said Elsa, "but I think that you would do anything for Hans; for my purposes, it amounts to the same thing."

"Then what do you want?" the prisoner asked.

"I want to speak to Hans, and I believe your presence will convince him to speak to me."

They continued their trail northward, up the mountain. Gustav knew nothing about the geography here, but Elsa seemed to be familiar with the path that Hans had taken... or at least, the path that he had blazed through this snowy, mountainous terrain.

The next day, as the sun sank beneath the western horizon, the journey ended: They found Hans at the foot of an icy staircase spanning a great chasm; beyond that bridge stood a palace of ice, cracked in many places and with the front wall melted by some great heat, but still standing tall.

To the right of that palace, higher up the mountain, the stone seemed unusually smooth, as though it had been melted and flowed down towards the palace, where it had frozen again in a stone wall.

As for the man himself, gone were his simple furs; he was now wearing royal finery of the sort that he had worn when Gustav had first met him, except red and gold rather than white, and conspicuously lacking gloves.

And he was not alone. At his right side stood Wolfgang, Heinrich, Karl, and Rolf; at his left side, staring with narrowed eyes at the queen, stood Turgeis, Truan, Tirfing, Alric, and Ranulf.

Elsa shaped a doorway into the icy box that had restrained Gustav, who shivered at the abrupt exposure to the wind: The ice had been surprisingly effective at keeping him warm, or at least shielded from the bitter wind.

"Hans, I have brought..." Elsa began, looking at the men at his sides. "...your loyal retainer, Gustav, alive and unharmed."

"So I see," replied Hans. Despite the cool tone in which he responded to Elsa, he could not hide the surprise in his eyes as Gustav met his gaze. "I have nine more here. Release Gustav to me; we have much to talk about."

Gustav gasped at his friend's gall. Who would dare give commands to a queen?

"As you wish," replied Elsa, nodding to Gustav. He left the icy box and walked toward Hans and his company.

"How...? Why did you come here?" Gustav asked Wolfgang.

"We saw the execution," said Wolfgang. "Or, rather, Karl did. I couldn't understand his signals, but according to Rolf, they meant that he had seen Hans blasting fire everywhere and fleeing Arendelle. Once the rest of us saw the trail of fire and water too, it was a simple task to follow him to here."

"Hans was just as surprised," added Heinrich. "I guess that after he abandoned us, he expected us to abandon him."

"I didn't want you following me all the way to my death and yours," said Hans. "If I had had my way, Gustav would not have abandoned you either."

 _If you had had your way, you would be dead,_ signed Karl.

* * *

Elsa stayed well away from the men, watching and listening silently. How could she have been so easily blindsided? It was obvious in hindsight that Hans could not have sailed all the way from the Southern Isles to Arendelle with just one companion. From their conversation, it seemed to Elsa that Hans had hired these nine other men as well, to bring him to the walls of Arendelle but no farther, and then sent them back to wherever their ship was moored.

It was equally apparent that Hans had intended Gustav to accompany the nine other men, not himself.

None of them had done as Hans had commanded, and Hans had never looked so happy.

Elsa took some small comfort, though, in knowing that the presence of these men here and now had surprised Hans just as much as it had surprised her. And why shouldn't it? That third man was right; Hans had abandoned them, even if it was to a better fate than his own; why shouldn't Hans have expected them to abandon him in kind?

More importantly, what could Hans do now that he realized the depth of his men's loyalty?

Or did he? Could a man so intimately familiar with treachery have any idea what loyalty looked like?


	9. A Witch's Confrontation

A Witch's Confrontation

Elsa stayed well away from the men, watching and listening silently. These men, she realized, must have been the remainder of the _Eisengarder's_ crew, whom Hans had hired to bring him to the walls of Arendelle but no farther, and then sent back to where their ship had been moored.

It was equally apparent that Hans had intended Gustav to accompany the nine other men, not himself.

None of them had done as Hans had commanded, and Hans had never looked so happy.

Elsa took some small comfort, though, in knowing that the presence of these men here and now had surprised Hans just as much as it had surprised her. And why shouldn't it? That man was right; Hans had abandoned them, even if it was to a better fate than his own; why shouldn't Hans have expected them to abandon him in kind?

More importantly, what could Hans do now that he realized the depth of his men's loyalty?

Or did he? Could a man so intimately familiar with treachery have any idea what loyalty looked like?

* * *

Kristoff did not have the opportunity to spend much time with the trolls who had raised him, now that Elsa had appointed him Royal Ice Master. Though Elsa was quite capable of conjuring ice for her subjects, other affairs of state occupied much of her time and energy, leaving her unable to ensure personally that every one of her subjects had a good supply of the cold crystal, and so she delegated that task to Kristoff.

Demand for ice had diminished over the last month as the lakes and rivers began to freeze over even without Elsa's magic, but Kristoff had had other reasons to stay in court then too.

So, of course, the trolls were thrilled to see him again. He endured their attentions with as much grace as he ever had, but just like the last time he had been here, he had a pressing errand.

"I need to speak to Grand Pabby," said Kristoff. "The Queen is having trouble with a rogue sorcerer, one well known for treachery."

Grand Pabby rolled towards him. "Welcome home, son. Tell me of this sorcerer."

"Where should I start? He has... a history... from long before he revealed any sorcery."

"Would this history speak of a possible source for his power?"

"I don't know. He and an accomplice infiltrated the Queen's palace and attempted to kill her two nights ago; they were captured and scheduled to be executed yesterday morning. The Queen decided to execute the accomplice first, but the sorcerer blocked the shot that she had intended for the accomplice."

"If the sorcerer risked his life for his friend, even if it was by taking a blast of ice to the heart, then that was an act of true love strong enough that his heart itself could not have been touched by the ice."

"It isn't just that the ice didn't freeze his heart," said Kristoff; "it seemed to set his heart on fire."

"This I have not heard of," said the ancient troll. "Perhaps he had made a pact with Those Who Dwell Below; earth and fire are at their command just as-"

A flash of light from the north caught Kristoff's eye. He looked towards the mountain and saw a blast of red and yellow sparks emanating from a point in the sky above the summit, then dissipating.

"That is the work of a man of power," said Grand Pabby. "Perhaps he is the sorcerer you speak of, if there is only one. It is not the work of the Queen, I am sure. I must see him with my own eyes, or I cannot help your Queen; you may deliver this message."

"That should not be difficult," said Kristoff. "She told me that I would probably find her wherever _he_ was."

"She went after the man of power herself?" Grand Pabby sounded alarmed, if that was possible. "Even she cannot withstand the might of Those Who Dwell Below; if this man of power has made a bargain with such creatures, she will be in grave danger."

* * *

"Now is our chance!" said Turgeis, drawing his sword. "For Arendelle!"

He had not taken two steps toward Elsa, who had already conjured a shield of ice for herself, when Hans shot a ball of fire at the snow between them, boiling it into steam in a brilliant flash of light. "Stand down, Turgeis!"

"What?"

"I did not order you to attack Elsa, and I will not tolerate insubordination on this matter. While I cannot begin to guess her motives, she brought Gustav back to me, alive and seemingly unharmed. I will not have her attacked for that."

"It must be a trick," Turgeis objected.

"No," said Gustav. "Other than dragging me into her carriage, she has done no harm to me. And as for her motives, all I could gather was that she wished to speak to you, Hans."

"Speak to me?" Hans repeated, glancing at the queen. "Well, it would be discourteous indeed to deny her."

"This is not going to end well," muttered Truan.

"No alternative could end well either," said Hans, turning to Truan. "At least I'll learn more about her from this parley than from any other course of action, and that is the best I can hope for. However, Turgeis does have a point; I must confirm something first..."

* * *

"A spark upon you," exclaimed the treacherous prince, his open hand pointed at Elsa, "for every snowflake you have conjured upon Gustav!"

"Hans, no!" shouted the accomplice, but in vain; Hans' hand glowed orange for a few seconds, and Elsa held up her shield and braced herself for a wave of heat that never came. Instead, the glow in his hand subsided as quickly as it had flared up.

The prince blinked, then turned his gaze to his accomplice. "Did my magic work?" he asked.

The accomplice looked between Elsa and Hans, and then replied: "No sparks for no snowflakes; yes, your magic worked."

"Interesting. Very interesting," Hans said, as if to himself. Then his gaze met Elsa's. "You wish to speak to me, do you not?"

Elsa swallowed a mouthful of fear before replying. "What are you planning?"

"To learn more about this situation, of course. It's not like you to release a prisoner unharmed, let alone to an enemy like me. For example, I had to ensure that he truly was unharmed."

"Not like me? I suppose you don't have any idea what mercy is, do you?"

"Mercy? Kindness to those who are cruel? I know somewhat about that, but I've found that it only encourages further cruelty."

"That is... unfortunate," said Elsa. "You have lived a very hard life, Hans. That is unfortunate indeed."

* * *

"We should kill her now," said Truan. Turgeis and Tyrfing nodded.

"No," said Wolfgang. "Hans ordered us to stand down, and stand down we shall."

"Against that treacherous witch? Not while I live," said Tyrfing. "She left us starving and cold in Arendelle last summer, and it was Hans that kept us fed and warm. And if she did for us once, she'll do for us again."

"Hans has taken a liking to her," said Turgeis. "What if we killed them both?"

"Whatever else he has done," said Gustav, "he saved your lives once. To betray him..."

"Like he betrayed Princess Anna?" interrupted Turgeis. "Elsa had frozen her heart, and Hans had just left her to die."

"Aye, that he did," said Gustav, his voice louder then before. "And what shall we do about it? If treachery is to be repaid with treachery, then no back will remain unscarred by a knife. Is that what you want?"

* * *

"No," said Hans. "That's not what I want."

"What was that?" asked Elsa.

"If treachery is repaid with treachery, then every back will feel a knife," said Hans; "I don't want that."

"Then a truce, perhaps?" said Elsa, holding out her hand.

"Agreed," said Hans, holding out his hand to meet hers.

"And more to the point," continued Gustav, his voice becoming louder with every syllable, "Queen Elsa undid the blizzard, didn't she? If malice had driven her to conjure it in the first place, then she never would have dispelled her own conjuration, let alone after only three days."

From ten yards away, Elsa overheard him.

"Your Gustav is a very astute man," she said as she and Hans walked towards them.

"He is very good at reading people, yes," agreed Hans. "Within a minute of shaking my hand the first time we met, he had somehow figured out what a hell my life had been, how much of that hell was of my own making, and he never condemned me for it. I've never met anyone like him."

"Who figured you out so easily, or who never condemned you for it?" asked Elsa.

"Well... either. Both." On reflection, Elsa had probably figured him out from the moment they had first met; and Father Kierkegaard, too, had refused to condemn Hans. But Elsa seemed to accept his response without argument. "Why did you try to kill him?"

"None of my people would vouch for him, as they vouched for you. Besides, I knew that you had the opportunity to block my attack if you so wished. To be honest, I am glad that you did."

"And you haven't hurt Gustav since then because...?"

"I do not want to make a worse enemy of you than you already are."

Hans had no response to that; after about five seconds of awkward silence, he turned and walked towards his men, Elsa close behind him.

"I did not want to see you die, Hans," said Gustav as the queen and the prince closed the distance to the ten men. "I am relieved that Elsa's ice did not touch your heart, but you gave me quite a scare when you stood between me and the Snow Queen and demanded that she take you instead."

"You could not have been half as scared as I was," said Hans.

"Why not?" asked Wolfgang. "Not many men could command such loyalty as you can; and I've served under enough men to know. It's a rare commander who would die for his men; and that makes you worth dying for too."

Hans turned a fiery glare at Wolfgang. "Don't say that," he demanded. "Don't ever say that within my earshot again. Do you understand me?"

"I will tell you as often as I must how loyal we are to you. We should never have let you and Gustav go alone to Arendelle."

"As I ordered you to do? It would have been insubordination to do otherwise!"

"It is not loyalty to follow an order that does not benefit the one that utters it. And your order that we should leave you behind while you set out to die under Elsa's ice was not to your benefit." Wolfgang dropped to his knees. "I am sorry that I did not serve you better."

"Enough, Wolfgang!" Hans backed away. "You have served me quite well enough!"

Elsa watched the sorcerer turn and walk up over the icy bridge towards the ash-encrusted ruin of her palace.

No, she thought sadly to herself; Hans still did not know what loyalty looked like, even as it took the form of Gustav's refusal to abandon him. Insubordination, he had called it.

She took a step after him, and one of the tall men who had spoken ill of her before walked up to her.

"And where do you think-?"

"Peace, Truan!" interrupted Gustav.

"My parley with Hans isn't over," said Elsa, continuing her stride towards the icy staircase and the palace. "He is as afraid of hurting you as I was, once, of hurting my sister. That must be why he is attempting to shut you out; I intend to convince him otherwise."

"Let her go," Gustav commanded Truan. "She is right."

* * *

Though grey dirt stained the outer walls of the palace, the ice remained smooth and clear inside.

Hans stepped more cautiously, his footing on the slick floor less sure, and so it was that Elsa caught up to him.

"Hans, I am not finished with our parley," she demanded. Hans looked back at her, then turned towards the stairs.

He had not taken three steps up those stairs before they turned into a slippery ramp beneath his feet. He fell hard to his knees and slid back down in an excruciating bundle on the floor. He raised his head to look around, but the only other way out of this room was through the ruined gateway, and Elsa was standing in the middle of it. There was no escaping her.

"What more is there to say?" Hans asked.

"I need a word with you about your men."

"If my men give you any trouble, you may do with them as you please."

"I shall keep that in mind," said Elsa. "I know what you're trying to do to them, and why."

"So be it," said Hans, sitting up, cradling his injured knees. "Take as many guesses as you like."

"You're trying to protect them from yourself," Elsa began. "You have so much power over them that it frightens you, doesn't it? And the only way you know how to handle that power is to keep your men as far away from yourself as you possibly can."

Hans nodded, speechless.

"And that isn't as far away as you think it is. They will never stop fighting for you. To do to them what I once did to Anna will only-"

"SHUT UP!" Hans erupted, suddenly rising to his feet, his physical pain forgotten.

The icy wall at Hans' back cracked at the sudden heat, and Elsa took a few steps back and conjured a wall of ice between them just in time to block his blast of flame. Her own magic chilled the air again, and she conjured a shell of ice around the sorcerer. His flames lit up the palace but were powerless against the barrier surrounding him.

"I would never freeze my men's hearts! Or burn them either!" Hans shouted. "Why did you do that to your own sister?"

Elsa paused for a moment, and as she blinked, Hans could see the anger in her eyes giving way to confusion. In another blink, her eyes were wet with sadness. "I was afraid," she said at last. "For most of my life I had been trying to protect her from myself, shutting her out of my life so that I would never hurt her again. Then, last summer, when she burst through every barrier I could build to protect her, I lashed out at her in fear and panic. I didn't know until later—until you told me—that my ice had struck her heart.

"And now I see the same thing starting to happen between you and your men. Your efforts to shut them out will be as futile as mine to shut Anna out. It may not happen tomorrow; it may not even happen within the next thirteen years; but someday your men will break every barrier you try to build between yourself and them."

"I don't want to hear it!" pleaded Hans, brilliant blue flames pushing in vain at the icy shell surrounding him.

"You will hear it, whether you want to or not, from them if not from me," replied Elsa. "They love you."

"She is right," said Wolfgang as he passed through the melted gate. "We will not stop fighting for you, Hans."

The rest of Hans' men came in after Wolfgang.

"And we _will_ break down every wall you try to build between you and us," added Alric.

The half-score of men Hans had hired gathered around him, kneeling in deference. "Command us, Prince Hans," said Turgeis.

Hans looked at Queen Elsa again. "You told me earlier that if they gave me any trouble, I could do with them as I pleased, correct?" Elsa asked. "If you will not command your men, then I will."

At that moment, a tall, fair young man hurried into the palace and bowed before Queen Elsa.

"Your Majesty," he began, "I have spoken with my family; they wish to speak to the sorcerer as quickly as possible."

"Very good, Kristoff," she replied to the young man. "You may go back to Arendelle; tell Anna that I am well."

"Anna is alive?" Hans asked, astonished. "I thought I had-"

"Shut up," Elsa interrupted Hans with a brief turn of her head. "As I said, Kristoff, you are dismissed."

"By your leave, then," said Kristoff. As he turned to leave, he saw the band of ten men kneeling before the sorcerer. "Wait; who are these men? And what is Hans' accomplice doing with them?"

"These are the men Hans hired to bring him to Arendelle," said Elsa. "I'm afraid I don't have enough time to explain everything now."

"I look forward to it," said Kristoff. "By your leave." He turned and left.

* * *

"So, Hans," Elsa continued, turning to face the sorcerer. "Since you broke our truce by striking me, will you make amends by accompanying me to visit Kristoff's family?"

The shell of ice vanished, and Hans took a tentative step forward on shaking knees. Looking around at his men, then at Elsa, and then at Kristoff leaving the palace, he made his decision.

"I am sorry, Gustav, Wolfgang, all of you," he began. "I am still no match for Elsa, and I have no choice but to surrender."

"You must do as you see fit, Commander Hans," said Ranulf. "For my part, I agree."

"But remember what I told you about Gustav," Hans continued, turning to face Elsa and making a sweeping gesture towards the men at his feet, "and be warned that I mean the same for all of my men. Harm them at your own peril."

"And that goes for our commander too," said Tyrfing, rising and turning to face Elsa. "I will accept that you willingly dispelled the blizzard that plagued us so last summer, and I will accept that my strength is no match for yours, but if you kill Hans, you'll have to kill me too."

"And me," said Truan and Turgeis, nearly in unison, rising and turning to face Elsa. In a matter of seconds, the entire band had turned to her, forming a wall of flesh and blood between their commander and his enemy.

"There has been enough talk of killing and dying already," said Hans. "There will be no bloodshed between me and Queen Elsa until I speak with this... family. Move out."

The eleven men quit the palace, marching down the staircase and to the weird snowy carriage in which Elsa had carried Gustav. The steady footfalls of the men rang loudly on the staircase, and then softly on the snow at its base, as Hans reached the carriage. He stepped in and turned to face Elsa, who stood behind his men, watching them with an icy gaze.

"Lock me up."


	10. A Troll's Conclusion

A Troll's Conclusion

In about two hours, Elsa opened the carriage to let Hans out, as the rest of his men came up behind them.

The air was warmer here, and steam burst out of geysers here and there, bathing many round boulders in their glistening moisture.

But they weren't boulders, Hans realized. They were too warm to be boulders, even with the steam.

"Trolls," Hans uttered. "They're trolls!"

"Just so," said Elsa, leading him. "They have been a better family to my Ice Master than... any human, honestly."

Hans' men whispered behind him, and Gustav hurried forward until he was apace with the prince.

"Commander, you are in danger here," he said.

"As always," Hans grunted. "But thank you for looking out for me."

As Gustav reached for his sword, Hans added, "Keep your steel sheathed." He looked behind him to see that the rest of his men were visibly nervous, although no steel was drawn. "Everyone, keep your steel sheathed."

The trolls started rolling alongside Elsa, Hans, and his entourage as they proceeded through the valley. Finally, they came to a mound at the center of an open area between the hills.

The boulders rolled towards Elsa and... unfolded? Small creatures, less than half Hans' height, were suddenly staring at him now, gemlike eyes blinking curiously.

A larger boulder was now rolling towards them, and now it was transforming into an elderly troll bedecked as royalty.

"Queen Elsa, I am pleased to see you again after these fourteen years," he intoned with a bow. "You wield your power well, and I understand that you now wield it against a great enemy. Bring him before me, please."

The soft whisper of steel against leather behind him prompted Hans to turn his head and command, "Stand down; I will face this... troll... myself." He walked towards Elsa and the elderly troll.

"Johannes Westergaard!" the troll exclaimed. "Thirteenth offspring of King Haakon, thirteenth offspring of Queen Ingrid..." He trailed off into some strange language that Hans could not understand.

"It's Hans," he corrected. "I know that it's short for Johannes, but everybody addresses me as Hans."

"And how do you address yourself?" asked the troll.

A minute of silence passed, and when Hans did not speak, the troll did.

"Long have the thirteenth human offspring of thirteenth human offspring had strange powers over flame and earth. I saw your handiwork earlier, upon the mountain to the north; such power is the birthright of children such as you."

The troll peered up at Hans, staring into his eyes, then down to his chest.

"But ice has pierced your heart, inflicted by twelve men bound to you by blood," he continued. "Only an ember of the power to which you were born endured such torment, preventing your heart from freezing completely."

His neck uncomfortable from looking down, Hans knelt until his chest was level with the elder's face. "My brothers..." he whispered.

"But an act of true love and sacrifice has thawed the ice and rekindled the ember in your heart," the troll continued. "Those who once attempted to quench your flame are now in dire peril of it."

A grim smile crossed Hans' face as he remembered his eldest brother Caleb, with all of his muscles and all of his steel. How easily flame could burn that flesh and melt that steel!

His smile became a frown as he remembered Lars. If Caleb could not endure the flame, then neither could Lars...

"Is there any way to... protect them... against the flame?" Hans asked.

"Some humans of power have held it in check, but it has never taken less than three days and three nights to contain power of your sort. If your path should cross that of the men who attempted to snuff out your flame before then, the flame will repay them in kind." The troll then turned to Elsa. "You, however, have nothing to fear from this sorcerer, Queen Elsa. Your ice did not pierce his heart, and thus neither shall his flame pierce yours."

The journey out of the valley of the trolls was silent save for the footfalls of the eleven men and the queen.

"Your Majesty," Hans finally said to break the silence, "what will you do now?"

"You are a greater threat to your brothers now than you are to me, Hans," replied Elsa. "I could just leave you here, and demand that you never set foot in Arendelle again."

"That would be just," Hans agreed.

"And me with him, Your Majesty, as we agreed," said Gustav. "I, too, accept exile from your domain for my offenses against you."

"I have not passed sentence," said Elsa, "Hans, tell me about your brothers."

"What about them?" Hans spat.

"Whatever you please, but most especially whether there is any possibility that you and they might cross paths within the next three days and three nights."

"They don't care a fig about me," said Hans. "None of them care at all... well, Lars does, I guess, though he shows it seldom enough."

"Lars?"

"The third-eldest. He is the earl of Skaggerik, the second-largest of the Southern Isles. He's always complaining about the constant changing of borders as the rest of my brothers vie for control of the rest of the Isles, but he knows his own domain and holds onto it with a grip that nobody has broken. Even Caleb and Soren were never able to take control of so much as a square inch of Skaggerik since Lars established his authority there."

"The two eldest?"

"Yes, Caleb and Soren. Father has tried to make Caleb a mirror image of himself, and apparently he has succeeded. They basically rule the Southern Isles together now.

"Soren has always been more interested in battle than in government, and he even declined to rule Midmark, the third-largest isle, instead taking an army to test the forces of Corona and Weselton. I heard that he fights so many battles because he loves hearing men scream; he certainly enjoyed hearing mine."

"Aye," Wolfgang affirmed. "Soren's a right bastard in battle. Many an enemy force has chosen to exert themselves to death rather than be taken prisoner by that... man. Some say the most ruthless generals take no prisoners, but I'm rather inclined to disagree."

"Could your paths cross theirs within three days?" asked Elsa.

"Not likely," answered Hans. "Even if I wanted to, I couldn't get back to the Southern Isles without reclaiming my boat, and that alone would take more than three days."

"Hans!" Gustav interrupted.

"Or maybe it's already been claimed by Arendelle, and I couldn't get back to the Southern Isles at all. Either way, there is no going back for me."

Elsa smiled briefly. "And what of them coming to Arendelle? Is that possible?"

"They wouldn't do anything for my sake," said Hans. "They probably don't even care that you've sentenced me to death, except Lars, and he wouldn't..." He hesitated.

"Wouldn't he? You said he cared about you more than the others did."

"Well, yes, he might care enough to collect my body... He dislikes delegating the affairs of state, though, as he certainly would need to do if he were to make the journey to Arendelle personally. And even if he does come to Arendelle, he's the one man, excluding present company, whom I don't want to hurt."

Hans turned and started walking to the right. "Where are you going?" Elsa asked.

"With your permission," Hans replied, turning back to her, "I'm going to go to the highest cliff west of Arendelle and keep a lookout for incoming ships from the south. If Lars will come, then he will come from that direction."

Elsa nodded, and Hans turned again and walked away. Gustav was quick to follow.

"You're not going anywhere without me, Hans, and if you're headed for the highest cliff west of Arendelle, somebody needs to make sure you don't fall."

Hans nodded wearily and beckoned Gustav to accompany him.

"They'll take care of themselves," said Wolfgang to the other eight men. "Or if not, they'll take care of each other."

"What should we do, then?" asked Alric. "We saw our ship at Arendelle's docks, so we can't possibly sail away from here. And we can't keep hunting for our food for long."

"Elsa has our payment..." Tyrfing said. "I never thought I'd serve her again after last summer, but she has treated Hans honorably enough. More honorably than I expected, truth be told."

"Hans kept you warm last summer, didn't he?" Elsa asked.

Tyrfing stared at her defiantly. "Yes; yes he did." He paused for a few seconds. "What do you intend to do about it?"

"I intend to continue to treat Hans honorably, if I ever see him again, and to treat you who have served him so faithfully with the same honor. I am sorry for the storm last summer. I am sorry that I wasn't there to make sure that you were all warm."

"Do I have your promise that you will never inflict such a curse upon Arendelle again?" asked Truan.

Elsa turned to look him in the eye. "Yes. You have my promise."

"Do I have your promise that you will never command us to harm Hans in any way?"

"Yes."

Truan drew his sword and extended it, pommel-first, to Elsa. "Then my sword is yours, Your Majesty, if you will take it."

In this way Queen Elsa obtained the services of nine new subjects. Her first command to them was: "Accompany me on my journey back to Arendelle."

One day and one night passed, and the sky was a dark bluish grey over the cliffs west of Arendelle.

Hans had slept poorly upon the hard stone floor of the cave that he and Gustav had found in the cliff. By the way Gustav was tossing about, Hans guessed that he too would be exhausted today.

Fortunately, sitting and staring out at the ocean was not a particularly strenuous task.

Unfortunately, Hans could barely even see the ocean.

"Fog," he swore. "Even Karl couldn't see through this!"

He stared out at the dark blue haze, watching it slowly lighten, when Gustav joined him.

"You could heat the earth up enough to make a volcano erupt," he said, "and I must believe you can heat the air up enough to evaporate this fog, if you want to."

"I've never tried using pure heat before," said Hans.

"What's the worst that could happen? You might burn a cloud?"

"I might light up this place and compromise our position, if there is a ship sailing through this fog," said Hans. "A light shining from here would be odd enough."

"Whom are you trying to hide from?"

"The fewer people know what power I wield, the better."

"Every country has a spy in Arendelle," said Gustav, "and they all saw what happened after your 'execution.' You aren't protecting any secrets from anyone."

"All the more reason not to leave a big sign reading 'HANS WAS HERE.' I need to be careful."

He gently drew some heat out into the air three feet ahead of him, and it looked like the fog was starting to thin.

Then he tried shooting a ray of invisible warmth down forty-five degrees, until he could make out a few waves in the ocean below.

As he withdrew the channel of pure heat, the fog closed in around it and obscured his vision once again.

For the next few hours, he intermittently cast his rays of heat into the ocean so as to see whether it bore a ship, but for an hour it did not. It was not until the sky had become more grey than blue that he saw it.

He hastily threw another ray of heat in its direction. "Gustav, get your spyglass ready, and tell me what you see!"

He cast more heat in its direction, and their shapes were outlined against the grey sky.

"Ships!" Hans swore again. "Two, three, four..." As the ships came slowly northward, oars cutting rhythmically into the sea to compensate for the becalmed air, Hans continued counting. "Five, six..."

"I can't make out their insignia," said Gustav. "It's too dark."

"I'm not casting light out there," said Hans. "The sun will light up the sky despite these clouds soon enough, but those ships are undoubtedly bound for Arendelle."

"What should I do?" inquired Gustav.

"First," said Hans, "go and tell Elsa that there is a fleet heading for Arendelle, and they appear to be decked for battle. I'll catch up to you when I identify their insignia, if you'll lend me your spyglass."

"Why don't you warn Elsa, and I'll stay to identify them?" asked Gustav.

"Because I'll have less difficulty catching up to you than vice versa!" Hans answered, grabbing Gustav's spyglass. "Go!"

As Gustav hurried away from the edge of the cliff and down the path back to the trolls' valley, Hans turned to face the ships, waiting for the light of day to make their flags visible.

Half an hour later, Hans cast another ray of heat at the ships, and this time, the light was good enough that he could see their flags.

There was no mistaking the flag of the Southern Isles hanging from the masthead of the ship at the head of the fleet. Directly below it hung a flag bearing the coat of arms of Caleb Westergaard, heir to the throne of the Southern Isles.

Hans stayed long enough to identify the insignia of each of the twelve ships, and the coat of arms of each of his brothers, before he stuck his spyglass into his belt and hurried after Gustav.

Lars was indeed bound for Arendelle.

But so, too, were the rest of the Westergaard princes.

A thought, at once awful and awesome, came to Hans' mind as he raced the ships towards Arendelle.

 _I could kill them all._


	11. A Kingdom's Capitulation

A Kingdom's Capitulation

The ships arrived first.

Lars Westergaard stood at the bow of his ship, immediately to the port-side of that of his eldest brother Caleb, and looked at the harbor of Arendelle as it approached them.

He would have taken some comfort from any sort of message regarding Hans, but it seemed that even King Haakon's best spies here had been compromised.

He shuddered at the memory of Sigmund's last three missives:

 _251218- Lost sight of Hans' ship. Arendelle navy sighted us. Will arrive Arendelle tomorrow._

 _261218- Landfall at Arendelle port. Officials took us for merchants. No sign of Hans or ship._

 _301218- Hans' ship taken in by Arendelle sailors; neither Hans nor crew aboard._

And then... three days of silence. Whether Hans' remains now lay at the bottom of the ocean or whether his head now adorned the parapets of Arendelle, or whether Hans was still alive and in hiding somewhere, Lars would have given up his earldom to know.

After all, to join his brothers on this journey, he practically had. He knew perfectly well that Caleb and Soren intended to seize Skaggerik back from him, and that they had their father's blessing to do it. Lars' retainers were loyal, but no match for the combined might of the Southern Isles, or even the fraction that remained after subtracting the twelve thousand men in this armada.

But no enemy ship halted their progress; no deadly spell of cold turned the sea against them, as Caleb had apparently feared. The ships slid up to Arendelle's docks with no resistance at all, and if anything, that made Lars even more afraid.

Caleb disembarked from his ship first, followed by his elite guards, and then by the regulars who had helped row the galley.

"Citizens of Arendelle, I am Caleb Westergaard of the Southern Isles!" he announced. "I demand an audience with your queen!"

A strange white figure hopped towards him: A small child, perhaps, clad entirely in white?

No... As it approached, Lars saw that it was a snowman, less than half Caleb's height, hopping towards Caleb because it had no legs. Coal-black eyes, a nose that looked for all the world like a carrot, and a goofy grin were the snowman's most distinct features.

"Hi!" it shouted. "I'm Olaf, and I like warm hugs!"

"Well, Olaf," sneered Caleb, "where is the queen?"

"Queen Elsa is not welcoming anyone right now," said the snowman, Olaf.

"Listen, you pile of snow," Caleb growled, drawing his sword. "If you value your life, tell me where the queen is!"

"I couldn't say, really," said Olaf. "She's probably with that Hans guy, I guess."

"And where is Hans?" demanded Caleb. "Where is my brother?" Lars silently thanked Caleb for asking the question that he himself was so desperate to ask.

"Ah, yes, they did say that Hans guy had twelve older brothers," rambled Olaf, looking around at the men behind Caleb. "Nasty folks, they said-"

With a swing of his sword, Caleb silently sliced between the upper and middle sections of the snowman, and his head fell to the ground with a bounce. "Attack!" he commanded.

As the soldiers and the princes disembarked from their ships and streamed into the city of Arendelle, Lars stared with a frown at the broken pile of snow that they had left behind.

"Yup... Nasty folks."

Lars thought he had heard that snowman's voice coming from his broken body, but that was impossible!

But he looked at the sad piles of snow and saw that the creature's eyes were still moving, as were its twig-like arms.

Lars picked up the head and placed it on top of the midsection.

"Who are y-?"

"Stay down, Olaf," interrupted Lars, and then he stood and followed his brothers.

* * *

"No resistance," said Caleb. "No guards to speak of, and no magic save whatever brought that pile of snow that called itself Olaf to life! Even Hans and his men could have done this!"

The streets were filled with the soldiers of the Westergaard princes, who themselves were gathered in council at their center.

Leading the council, as was their right, were Caleb himself, his second-in-command Soren, and his third-in-command Lars. The rest of the princes stood quietly and respectfully around them.

"I was promised battle, and I will have it," demanded Soren. "We should attack the palace now!"

"That is what we are here to discuss," continued Caleb. "Remember, we are here to ensure that Queen Elsa will not threaten the Southern Isles again, but more importantly, we are here to collect Hans' head. _Only_ his head, mind you," he added, with a pointed glare at Lars, which he returned.

"What is she planning? Why has she not sent her forces out to oppose us?" asked Rudi, stepping forward. Either the fourth or the fifth of the thirteen sons born of Queen Sonja Westergaard (and Lars suspected that even she didn't know which), Rudi had his red hair combed perfectly into place, and despite his average height and age, Lars had always had the impression that he was accustomed to being obeyed.

"She has forces enough to have silenced our agents here," said Caleb. "We have had no word at all about Hans since about two days before he was to arrive in Arendelle, nor anything about Arendelle in general; he may have seized Arendelle himself and captured our spies for all we know. Lars, take your men and commence the assault. Deal with the Snow Queen and her forces as you must, if they are here, and _bring me Hans' head!_ _"_

Stunned for a few seconds by the fury behind that final command, Lars finally nodded his compliance. "By your command, milord." He quit the other eleven men to rally his forces and begin his assault.

Before he left, though, he had to endure one more insult from one of his younger (but taller) brothers, as Runo came towards him. "And, Lars," he said, "Don't take his head _too_ quickly. Understand?"

Lars met Runo's downward stare with an upward stare, looking directly into his wide, pale eyes, refusing to be distracted by the unkempt blond hair framing it. Even Hans, ten years younger, had looked more like a twin to Rudi than Runo did. "I suggest that you pay keen attention to age when addressing your brothers, Runo," he replied.

All of those explicit lessons about respect for age, and implicit lessons about disrespect for youth, occasionally had their advantages, Lars mused. Lars was five years older than both Rudi and Runo, and sometimes he needed to remind them of that. Caleb and Soren had never interfered in such quarrels, much to Lars' relief.

It was only now that he was among his own men, out of sight and earshot of his brothers, that he dared let his tears flow. He dared not speak more than two words to his men: "Move out!" But his thoughts were all for the brother he had been sent to behead, if Elsa or Anna had not already done so. He looked up at the battlements of Elsa's castle, but saw no sign of the remains of any criminals, as was custom in the Seven Isles. Did Arendelle not practice such barbarism? Had Queen Elsa spared Hans' life? Had Hans even set foot in Arendelle?

 _Oh, Hans..._ Lars could not stop the flow of tears. _If you live, forget your promise to me. Run. Flee Arendelle. Our brothers want you dead!_

* * *

Hans caught up to Gustav quite easily in the woods closer to Arendelle.

"Hans!" Gustav exclaimed. "Are you okay?"

Hans stopped to catch his breath. "I told you..." he gasped... "that I could catch you up."

"You're out of breath, Hans," said Gustav. "Here, sit down." He gestured towards a large, rotted stump.

"No time," said Hans, his breath largely restored. "We must warn Elsa; they're coming to Arendelle."

"What? Who?"

"All of them," Hans replied. "All of my brothers. I must warn her."

"Not without me."

"You can't run as fast as me, Gustav. Not unless..." Hans hesitated, fire dancing above his upturned palms. "Not unless my magic can make you run faster without hurting you."

"Can it?"

"I'll do what I can without hurting you."

And so they ran, and ran, and ran, their legs propelling them farther and faster than ever in their lives, before they finally caught up to Elsa.

* * *

"I still don't understand why we're staying here with the Snow Queen and leaving Hans behind," said Ranulf.

He, and the rest of Hans' men, were in the woods west of Arendelle, following Elsa towards the morning sunlight that was now peeking through the fading clouds and the skeletal branches of the trees.

"The cliffs overlooking the sea are treacherous," said Truan. "What would kill eleven men might not kill two."

"Besides," added Alric, "we've all seen them together, haven't we? I'm sure they'll be back."

"I saw it, sure enough," Rolf replied cryptically. "But are you sure it's wise to trust Elsa? Would she really forgive what Hans did to her last summer?"

"It is not a question of forgiveness," said the queen, "but of repayment. He tried to kill me, and for that, I tried to kill him. He took command of my kingdom, though only for a day, and for that, I have taken command of you. And I will do for you as he did for my kingdom."

"But those are not the last or least of his offenses against you," insisted Wolfgang, "if, as they say, you value your sister's life as dearly as your own."

"Indeed," agreed Elsa, "that score is not even yet. However..."

It was at that moment that Hans and Gustav could be seen, sprinting through the woods towards them.

"They're coming to Arendelle," gasped Hans as they caught up to Elsa and her men. "Caleb... Soren... Lars... All of them."

"It seems I will soon have my opportunity, twelve times over," continued Elsa. "What do you intend to do, Hans?"

"What?"

"You do not have to face your brothers, if you fear for their lives. I have commanded the rest of your men to accompany me to Arendelle, but you and Gustav may do as you please."

Hans hesitated for a few seconds, looking far away in the direction of Arendelle, where the dark ships were already pulling into port; then he looked to his men, and finally to Elsa, until... "Lars is coming to Arendelle," he said at last. "And I promised him that if he ever did, I would be there. I will return for his sake, if not for any other reason."

A voice whispered to him, then, a voice that belonged to no man within his earshot: _Forget your promise to me! Run! Flee Arendelle! Our brothers want you dead!_

He clenched his right hand into a fist, which burst into flame. "And heaven help the rest of them, if they stand between us."

* * *

"Are you sure you can trust him?" Runo asked. Either the fourth or the fifth of King Haakon's sons (Caleb was sure that even their mother couldn't have told whether he or Rudi had been born first), Runo was gazing down at Caleb with his perpetually wide eyes.

After all these years, Runo's height still bothered Caleb. It hardly mattered that where Runo was above average in one dimension, he was below average in the other two; his pale eyes, framed by his unkempt blond hair, towered above Caleb as they both stood upright. Some days Caleb could scarcely believe that Runo, rather than Hans, was Rudi's twin brother.

"Of course not," said Caleb. "This is just a test for him. I remember how you told me and Father about his collusion with Hans, when they spoke of Corona and Weaseltown. Arendelle is just a feint; there is treachery afoot in the Seven Isles, and perhaps also in Corona and Weaseltown, and we're here to expose it."

"Treachery," Soren sneered. "Knives and cloaks are no match for swords and armor! Even if Lars is a treacherous rat, why shouldn't we engage him in glorious battle, and let steel decide?"

"Is your memory of battle truly so poor, Soren?" asked Caleb. "We've both engaged Lars in too many battles already, just to get a foothold of the land he stole from you, and crushed ourselves every time against his defenses. To carry out our father's orders regarding Skaggerik, we had to lure Lars away from it."

"But we, too, are away," said Rudi. "We can't do anything about Skaggerik until we return."

"So all we have to do," added Runo, "is make sure that we do return, and that he doesn't."

For all of the treachery that he had seen and done in his life, Caleb still felt uneasy about Runo's suggestion. Perhaps this was because it was Runo's. Nonetheless, he knew how dangerous it was to let anyone see his unease, and his mask was perfect. "Indeed," he said. "If Lars is in league with Hans, then we have the authority to punish them both; after all, even together, they are outnumbered more than five to one. And even if Lars is not in league with Hans, many a soldier has been shot by an archer from his own army."

"And what of Queen Elsa?" asked Soren. "I burn for the chance to test my steel against her ice."

"You'll get it," said Caleb, "after we've dealt with Hans. For the moment, however, though she doesn't know it, we share a common foe."

"You're sure he's alive, then?" asked Rudi.

"Yes," answered Caleb, looking towards the parapets of Elsa's palace. "His head would already be on a pike if he weren't, and I'm sure Lars knows it too. Soon he will parley with the queen for Hans' safe passage, or possibly just for his head. Either way, we'll have both of their heads by sunset."

* * *

The sun was already as high in the southern sky as it would ever be that day when Elsa and her men arrived at the northwestern gates of Arendelle, but even from beyond the walls, the rhythmic footfalls of hundreds of soldiers were clear in her ears.

"Soldiers," Hans said. "And by the sound of them, more than ten times your own, Queen Elsa. We came too late."

"I will not abandon my sister," Elsa insisted, her hands gleaming with ice.

"And I will not abandon my brother," Hans replied as he walked forward, his hands glowing with flame. "We will aid them... together, with your permission."

Elsa looked at him, and he saw a glint of icy fear in her eyes before she blinked it away and whispered, "Thank you, Johannes Westergaard."

Hans blinked in surprise before turning to his men. "Gustav," he commanded, "My magic has empowered you to run faster and farther today than you have ever run before, but when it fades, you will likely have barely enough strength to stand, let alone fight. Therefore I forbid you to exert yourself further today, lest it kill you. You are to eat and drink a double ration within the hour, and more if you remain hungry or thirsty."

"Commander, I'm not that weak!"

"Your adrenaline deceives you, Gustav," Hans insisted. "It might not seem like it, but a strong wind could lay you flat on your back right now. Heinrich, Rolf, make sure that Gustav gets plenty of food, water, and rest, and belay any orders today to the effect that he doesn't need them. Karl!" Hans turned to the scout. Then he gave his orders by hand signal: _Karl, follow me at a safe distance, but keep me in your sight. If I appear to be in danger, blow the whistle._

"The rest of you," Hans continued, "Karl will follow me at a safe distance; follow him and remain within earshot of his whistle. If you have to stay close to him, even if you have to stay in sight of me, that's acceptable. If he blows the whistle, pay close attention to my left hand. If I think your swords would be helpful, I will give the come-hither gesture." He pointed his left index finger at them and curled it upwards to demonstrate. "If I think your presence near me would hinder more than help, I will have my fingers crossed." He crossed his middle finger over his index finger to demonstrate. "Your bows might be helpful even then, and I'll leave that judgment up to you, but keep your distance. My plan is simple: Get in, find Lars, and get out."

His orders acknowledged, Hans turned and followed Elsa through the gates of Arendelle, where hundreds of enemy soldiers were already giving way before her cold anger.


	12. A Family's Cremation

A Family's Cremation

The streets of Arendelle were in chaos. Soldiers marched in simulated formation up the streets, towards the castle. Elsa often conjured ice at the ground, occasionally causing a soldier to slip, but slowing every soldier's progress all the same.

A few more demonstrations of Elsa's powers were enough to deter most of the soldiers from their course. No doubt they had heard the rumors of Arendelle's sorceress-queen and, despite their orders, were unwilling to face such unforgiving power.

So it was that the Queen of Arendelle made her way towards her palace. Elsa's presence seemed to cool the air even beyond the natural chill of winter, and the soldiers largely left her alone.

None of them seemed to notice the red-haired youth who had arrived a few minutes after her, nor the men who followed him at an equal distance. Hans was relieved not to be so close to the spectacle of Elsa's conjurations, but he, too, had an errand.

It was in his best interest to avoid being seen, of course; from what he knew about the rest of his brothers, they would be all too eager to force a fight, which, without unlikely subterfuge on their part, they could not possibly win.

 _Get in._

 _I could kill them all._

 _Find Lars._

 _Don't be the monster they fear you are!_

 _Get out._

 _He risks hellfire that calls his brother a fool._

With a shudder, he ducked into an alley. A brief look back showed that Karl was just inside the alley behind him, raising the whistle to his lips and blowing.

Hans turned his back to Karl, left hand tucked behind his back, fingers crossed, and proceeded through the shadows. With any luck, he could catch up to Elsa before she reached the palace.

 _Get in._

 _Find Lars._

 _Get out._

* * *

"Well, well, well," an unpleasantly familiar voice called out from the shadowed alley ahead of Hans. The red-haired man, so similar in appearance to Hans except for an additional ten years in age, came out of the shadow of one of the buildings in front of Hans and walked to the middle of the road, blocking Hans' path. "The prodigal son yet lives."

"Rudi," Hans greeted him. "I would have expected Runo to be here too, the way you stick to each other. Stand aside; I have business to attend to here, but I won't be long."

" _You_ order _me_ to stand aside?" Rudi mocked him. "After more than twenty years, you are still too stupid to know your place!"

"Nor do you know yours, Rudi," said Hans. "There is no father here to come to your aid against me. This is Arendelle, the dominion of the Snow Queen, and she will not stand for this assault."

Rudi laughed. "Runo, do you hear this fool? Surely he is in _love_ with the Snow Queen!". The other man, Runo, laughed with him as he came forward from the shadows to complete the blockade.

"I am not the weak fool you remember," Hans warned. "If I cannot find a path around you, I will blast a path through you; step aside!" At that moment, in his heart of hearts, Hans realized that he would love nothing better than to do just that. For all of the violence that these two men in particular had inflicted upon him over the decades...

 _Don't be the monster they fear you are!_

Hans' own words came back to haunt him. He had given that warning to Queen Elsa herself last summer, when Elsa had nearly killed the two Weselton soldiers who were at her mercy. It would be monstrous here and now even to kill the two monsters that blocked his path.

A shrill whistle cut off Hans' reverie; Karl had sounded another alarm. _Not now,_ Hans thought, keeping his left hand behind his left hip, fingers still crossed.

"Not the weak fool we remember?" Runo taunted him. "What, did Elsa teach you some of her ice magic? We came well prepared for that!" He threw back his cloak, revealing a blue crystal pendant hanging from his neck, over his leather jerkin. Rudi parted his own cloak as well, revealing an identical gem.

"You have failed to defeat the Snow Queen for the last time, Hans," said Rudi. "You've left it to us... all twelve of us... to clean up your mess." The midday sunlight gleamed on his sword as he drew it. "I think we'll start with you."

Rudi and Runo moved towards Hans, swords raised to attack. Hans stood and laughed. "I no longer fear your swords," he said. "He risks hellfire that calls his brother a fool. Come no closer, and you may yet live."

Rudi pressed forward, raising his sword in preparation to strike. "You arrogant little-" Hans raised a clenched fist in his direction, and a ball of red heat soared into him, leaving nothing but a smoldering, broken skeleton, a puddle of molten steel, and a few pieces of shattered blue crystal.

Hans stared at the bones. _You are not a killer, Hans. Killing is never as easy as it seems._ He laughed again; killing was, in fact, extremely easy. He turned his head slightly to face the other man blocking his way. "Begone," he commanded Runo with an insane cackle, "or I will do the same to you!"

"No, you will not," said Runo, his pale hair flapping like a flag as he ran towards Hans. With another motion of his fist, Hans killed Runo in the same manner.

In a daze, Hans continued through the alley. Two of his brothers were dead, dead by his own hand, and he had never felt more ecstatic. Finally, he had given Rudi and Runo their just deserts.

Hans emerged from the alley into the open plaza in front of the palace of Arendelle, where so few days ago Elsa had taken him to die. Soldiers from the Seven Isles were pressing the attack against the palace, and at their head stood the man Hans had come here to find.

Bitter fear overwhelmed his throat, and he swallowed it away. What he had just done to Rudi and Runo... how could Hans dare to show his face to Lars after that?

More importantly, how could Hans be sure that Lars would not meet the same fate? He was one of those twelve men, bound to him by blood...

"Your Highness! Prince Hans!" a voice called out to him. Hans turned to see a squad of soldiers approaching him. Hans stifled a laugh at the idea that a soldier would still address him so. "Our commander, Prince Caleb, was hoping to find you before we finished our business here."

"Approach me at your own peril, soldier," said Hans, conjuring a ball of flame in his open hand. "Where is he?"

"Uh, he is at the docks, planning the final assault on the castle while Lars and the others lead the initial assault."

"Thank you." Hans dispelled the flames. "I will speak to him; do not follow me."

"Uh, yes sir!" The soldiers departed to rejoin their comrades.

Hans looked over towards the castle, where Lars' men were pressing their attack.

But Lars' words of encouragement, spoken so long ago with such foolish hope, now rang hollow in Hans' mind. He was a killer now. He was no longer the man Lars had remembered.

 _Get in, find Lars..._

He had gotten in, and he could now see Lars passing through the palace's front gate. He had found Lars, though he could no longer bear to let Lars find him. What was left of his sanity was now warning him:

 _Get out!_

Instead, he turned away and walked down towards the docks, where Caleb awaited him.

* * *

"Ah, Hans," said Caleb. "I was hoping to see you again before our business here was done. Honestly, though, I did not expect to see you outside of the Snow Queen's dungeon."

"Elsa saw fit to make a truce with me," said Hans. "In fact, I have learned much from her over the last few days. You would be wise not to cross me."

"You have learned some of her frigid magic?" Caleb asked. "No matter. Our brothers have one last thing to say to you, once we are all here."

Hans bit back the urge to boast about Rudi and Runo while Caleb sent runners with instructions to recall the remaining princes of the Southern Isles. He suddenly realized that he was in such dire straits as he had ever been in. The longer it took Caleb to realize that Rudi and Runo were dead, the longer Hans had to consider his possibilities.

Two... three... four... Hans counted the newcomers as they arrived. None of his brothers would look him in the eye. Had they found out about Rudi and Runo already?

An hour passed, and Caleb was facing Hans, with four men forming an arc at each of his sides, curved to encircle their youngest brother.

Nine men... Something circular, like that wall of ice that Elsa had conjured on the night of her coronation, could possibly strike them all at once. Nothing could strike any two of them as intensely as those two fireballs had struck Rudi and Runo, but even divided by nine, Hans' fire was still deadly.

Nine... And of those nine, Lars' face was nowhere to be found.

"Commander Caleb," a soldier hailed, approaching the eldest of the ten men. "Prince Lars sends word that his parley with Princess Anna cannot wait; he will come as soon as he can, but he regrets that he cannot come any sooner."

"Very well," said Caleb. "Return to the front and await further orders. No doubt he'll prove as foolish as Hans here."

"Yes, sir!" The soldier departed.

Lars was gone... His attack had already brought him into the palace, and apparently he was attempting to extract concessions from Anna. Elsa must not have arrived in time.

Hans sighed, at once feeling sad and relieved. Lars would not arrive in time to see what Hans had become.

"Now... what is taking Rudi and Runo so long?" Caleb asked, probably speaking to himself rather than to any of his brothers who were assembled there. "They have never been so late for anything before! And what are you smiling about, fool?"

Hans' face broke into a grin. The stars had seen fit to deliver all of his enemies right into his hands, and at the same time keep his friends too far away to suffer for his decisions. Karl had not blown his whistle since the confrontation with Rudi and Runo, and so Gustav and the rest of Hans' men would not interfere here either. It was time to reveal his darkest secret.

 _He risks hellfire that calls his brother a fool._

* * *

Elsa ran as fast as she could. Anna was still in the palace, ruling Arendelle as Elsa had commanded, but she had no experience in repelling any siege. She needed Elsa. Elsa cursed her inability to run any faster, and that as magically powerful as she was, she still could not be everywhere that she needed to be.

"Your Majesty!" called a familiar voice. The blond man saluted her, and even his reindeer bowed his head in respect. Elsa was pleased to note that he was armed and armored for battle, although he was not a regular soldier.

"Kristoff..." puffed Elsa. "I... I need to get to the palace."

"Sven can carry you," Kristoff said. "Permit me." He hoisted Elsa onto Sven's back. "Run, Sven!"

"Thank you," Elsa called, though she was sure that Kristoff did not hear it over Sven's hoofbeats.

The castle grew larger with every second, but it was still minutes before Elsa arrived at the gates of the palace.

They were already cordoned off by more soldiers from the Southern Isles.

"I am Queen Elsa of Arendelle," she declared. "You shall not bar me from my own palace, nor keep me from my own sister! Make way!"

The soldiers parted from the steps leading up to the open gates, and Elsa dismounted, ascended the steps, and walked into the great hall, where a tall, silver-blond-haired man stood, his back to Elsa, facing the throne.

"Even if I knew where Hans was," Anna was shouting, "why should I tell you?"

"My father, King Haakon of the Southern Isles, demands to know what has become of his youngest son," replied the man. "And I too would be glad of the knowledge, even if it is that he has been executed. And where is Queen Elsa? I would negotiate my terms with her, if possible."

"I am Queen Elsa," the queen said as she approached the man. "Who are you?"

The man turned to his side and stepped away so that he could turn his head quickly between Anna and Elsa; at the moment, Elsa could see quite a resemblance to Hans in the man's face, although his hair was golden rather than copper, and his face added more than a decade of age to that of Hans.

"I am Lars Westergaard, of the Southern Isles," said the man.

"Earl of Skaggerik and third son of King Haakon Westergaard, I presume," replied Elsa. "Your brother has told me somewhat about you, Sir Lars."

"Where is he?" insisted Lars.

"All I can say with any certainty is that he is in Arendelle, and he will not leave without seeing you first. It should be easy enough to find him from the top of the watchtower."

Elsa headed for the staircase leading up to the observatory, and Lars followed her.

"If anything has happened to him-" Lars began.

"Then I will find out what, and deal with it appropriately," Elsa cut him off. "As he is my guest, I can do no less."

"Guest?" asked Lars. "Not prisoner?"

Elsa remained silent for the remainder of the ascent. At the top of the tower, a sentry stood bearing a spyglass.

"Sir," said the queen, "I require the use of the spyglass."

"Granted," said the sentry. "What of the enemy combatant?"

Elsa looked back at Lars, whose sword and dagger were tucked into sheaths at his belt. With a shudder, she realized that for the few minutes that she was ascending the stairs of the tower, her back had been turned to an armed enemy combatant. Lars could have struck her from behind...

...but hadn't. "Bind his weapons," she commanded, "but give him no more trouble than is necessary to that end."

"Yes, milady." He pulled forth a red ribbon about a yard long and began binding sword and sheath together at Lars' hip. Lars moved his arm out of the way.

"Strange... He is nowhere near the castle. But there is something going on at the docks."

Elsa focused the spyglass on a location near the harbor. A young man with bright red hair stood there, surrounded by six other men, ranging from only a year or so older to about twenty years older.

"Lars," Elsa said, turning away from the spyglass and towards the prince who now also had his dagger tied to its sheath by another red ribbon, "look through the spyglass towards the docks. Are those your brothers?"

Lars looked into the spyglass. "That fool," he muttered. "Those are seven of my brothers... eight just now... and that's Hans in the middle of them! Curses!" He turned and descended the stairs.

Elsa watched him go but did not follow him down the stairs. She had a faster way down.

* * *

"Where is my sister?" asked Anna as Lars came down from the staircase.

"Is she not behind me?" asked Lars. "She must still be up there. Look, there is a guard up there too, and he bound my weapons. See for yourself if you would like." He took off his belt and handed it to her. "Now let me pass. My brother needs me."

He hurried quickly to the front gate. To his left lay a tall pile of fresh snow that he did not remember being there before, and a woman's footprints heading south to the harbor.

Elsa must have jumped out the window and conjured that snow to cushion her fall, Lars guessed. Enough snow had been on her shoes to indicate which direction she was going, and he followed it to the docks.

* * *

"They're both dead," Hans said. "They tried to kill me, and they have paid."

None of his brothers so much as blinked at the announcement.

"A bold claim, Hans," said Soren, standing directly to Caleb's right. "No doubt you left a pair of bodies for us to find-"

"Your Highness!" a soldier called out before approaching the group from Hans' right. Two more were carrying a cart, on which two piles of broken bones lay. "We have found Rudi and Runo. The locals swear on penalty of perjury that Hans unleashed the fires of hell upon them, as you see."

They brought the cart forward around the arc of men, and Caleb stepped back to look at the bodies within.

"So..." said Caleb. "That makes things much simpler. Hans Westergaard, I hereby charge you with the murder of our two royal brothers, Rudi and Runo Westergaard; and with conspiracy with a foreign enemy, Queen Elsa of Arendelle, against the Southern Isles."

"What did Queen Elsa of Arendelle do, that you call her an enemy of the Southern Isles?"

"Her magic threatens everything it touches," replied Caleb. "She must be stopped."

"Not while I live," replied Hans.

"Of course." Caleb took up a crossbow and leveled it at him. Four men stood at each side of Caleb, each also holding a crossbow aimed at their youngest brother. "Do you have anything to say before we pass judgment?"

"Rudi and Runo thought they could kill me too," said Hans. "If you wish to share their fate, then by all means, try to shoot me." He had devoted most of his concentration to maintaining an invisible field of heat energy around himself that would hopefully disintegrate any bolts that attempted to affix him. With some effort, he could push that field out to engulf all nine of his executioners, and perhaps kill them all.

 _Don't be the monster they fear you are!_

But of course, it would not be nearly so easy to kill them unless they tried to kill him first.

"Fire!" commanded Caleb,

Nine bolts of metal and wood disintegrated into ash and slag a foot away from the youngest of the ten princes. Nine brothers stared in shock at the red-haired man who stood unharmed amid the faint dusting of ashes. Nine swords gleamed in the sunlight as they were drawn, and the arc surrounding the sorcerer tightened.

* * *

"It is not safe here, Your Majesty," said Kristoff. "Southern soldiers are patrolling every street."

"Unless they all come down upon me at once and from all directions, my magic can stop them if it must," said Elsa. "Keep your sword drawn, and look to your own safety."

"As you wish," said Kristoff, looking at the bare sword in his right hand. "I will accompany you to the harbor."

They hurried down to the harbor, passing very few soldiers from the Southern Isles along the way, and those few fled without battle upon seeing the Snow Queen and her escort.

As they neared the harbor, they saw an arc of nine men surrounding a lone man with red hair. The man at the apex of the arc raised his crossbow, as did the four men on either side of him.

A field of pure, invisible heat surrounded Hans; Elsa could feel it even from as far away as she was. He was as willing to face those bolts of wood and metal as he had been to face her own bolt of ice; and this time, he was much better protected, although he did not appear to be.

"Fire!" shouted a voice from among that arc of men. Elsa heard nine twangs of crossbows discharging their deadly missiles.

Then she heard faint popping sounds as each missile struck that wall of heat. The disintegrated remnants of the arrows brushed against Hans' skin and clothes before settling onto the cobblestones at his feet.

Then the nine men drew swords, and the hellish tableau was complete.

Hans gestured with his hands, and metal melted in his brothers' hands.

"Kill him! KILL HIM!" screamed the man directly opposite Hans, and the two men at each end of the arc threw themselves at him.

As the distance between the men and their target dwindled to nothing, a burst of heat erupted from Hans, and the four men were all dead, their bodies reduced to charred skeletons, before they ever touched him.

"Call off this attack, Caleb," demanded Hans, unmoved, unharmed, standing within the heap of black, broken bones, "and I'll spare the rest of you."

"What better way to die?" asked another man, standing by Caleb's right shoulder. "Attack!" He, and the other three men, also threw themselves at Hans, who incinerated them in the same manner.

Elsa stood frozen, staring at the confrontation between Hans and the man he had called Caleb.

"They attacked me," said Hans, "and you see what I did to them." He gestured to the heat-shattered bones at his feet. "But it was on your orders that they attacked me; why, then, should I not do the same to you, Caleb?"

"You... you son of a bitch," Caleb yelled.

Hans laughed. "A worse insult to _our mother_ than to me," he sneered. "Without so many younger brothers to command, without a sword or a bow in your hand, without so much as a good insult on your tongue... you are truly pathetic, Caleb. Without the good fortune of being the firstborn son of a king, you would be nothing... and your good fortune has just run out."

Hearing footsteps behind her, Elsa turned to see Lars running towards her. She ducked into the shadow of a house as the prince overtook her and ran towards his brothers. A look of absolute horror was on Hans' face as he recognized the newcomer.

"Lars!" Caleb gasped, relief clear in his voice. "You could not have arrived at a better time! Hans has just murdered the rest of our brothers!"

Lars stopped and looked at the carnage. Hans, with his eyes closed and his head bowed, refused to return Lars' look.

"You know what we came here to do," pleaded Caleb. "With you at my side, I know that we can!"

"With me at your side..." Lars confirmed, walking a few steps forward.

Hans stared in disbelief as Lars walked towards Caleb. He looked left and right until his eyes landed on Elsa's.

 _Help me,_ he pleaded silently.

But Elsa remembered being at his mercy last summer, too. Though in the end she hadn't needed his help, she could not afford to forget how he had denied her. And so she denied him in turn, shaking her head with a frown.

Then Lars, level now with his older brother, turned to face him, interposed between him and Hans.

"Alas for you that I am not," Lars said.

"You treacherous cur!" exclaimed Caleb. "You have usurped Father's authority over Skaggerik, and now you have conspired with Hans to give aid and comfort to our enemy, the Snow Queen. Would that I had a sword to pass sentence upon you both... but this will have to do instead!" He lunged towards Lars, and with one hand he shoved Lars down onto the hard stones of the street, while with the other he pulled a dagger from the back of his belt.

Hans turned his head to see Caleb falling upon Lars, dagger gleaming in the dying sunlight.

"NO!" he cried, calling upon the flame to complete the carnage.

As Elsa stared at this final conflagration and did not conjure so much as a snowflake to stop it, her final score with Hans was settled.

 _You did nothing to save my sister from my deadliest magic, and now I've done nothing to save your brothers from yours._


	13. Served Cold

Served Cold

The flame was burning bright now; the heat and the light had never bothered Hans so much. All of his brothers were dead, dead by his own hand, just as that elderly troll had warned him. The twelve men who had frozen his heart in some desperate attempt to snuff out the flame within had been consumed by that same flame.

And Lars had been one of them.

Hot tears erupted from his eyes, and his hands were raised up to catch them. He felt the liquid turn to vapor and leave behind its salty residue on the palms of his hands and around his eyes. The death of the other eleven men might have been bearable, but Lars...

Hans remembered a lie that he had told Elsa long ago. How much pain had she suffered when he had told her that her sister had died because of her? If she had endured even a twelfth of what he was enduring now, then his debt to her was even deeper than he had reckoned.

* * *

Suddenly he felt a large arm encircling his shoulders, and he looked up to see...

"Lars!" Hans gasped. "You're alive!" Through his salt-caked eyes, he could still see his brother clearly. "And unharmed! Thank the Light, you're unharmed!" He reached up and around his brother to pull him into a hug.

"Hans," said the older brother, "I am sorry. I meant to find you before they did, and I failed."

Hans suddenly drew back from his embrace. "You were wrong about me," he whispered. "I am a killer."

Tears came to Lars' eyes. "Hans..." he whispered, stepping forward with each step Hans took backward.

"What are you doing?" Hans cried. "Do you want me to kill you too?"

"I know exactly why you killed them," Lars said, "and I cannot believe that you have nearly so much reason to kill me. You told me once that Anna's sacrifice was stronger than steel, and that you suspected that it was stronger than magic too." He stepped within arm's length of Hans. "I think you were more right about that than you realized. And if I am wrong... if I have wronged you half as severely as they have... then I will face my fate, regretting only that I could not save you from yours."

"Face your fate?" exclaimed Hans. "Are you mad?"

" **Yes** , I am mad!" cried Lars, his eyes glistening wetly. "I am mad at our brothers for what they have done to you over the last twenty years; mad at myself for not seeing that torture for what it was until now; mad at our father for sending you here to die; and I'm even mad at you for calling yourself a killer while I'm still alive to hear you say it! I swear by my own life, Johannes Westergaard, that you are **not** the monster that you fear you are!"

Hans' eyes, too, gleamed wetly again. It seemed like only yesterday that Lars had let his cool mask slip for the first time, when he and Hans had laughed about frying pans. Now, for the second time in his life, Hans saw that facade melt away, this time at the heat of the accusations streaming from his mouth.

Hans could not bring himself to hate Lars for that. He wasn't even ashamed to show Lars his tears anymore. Perhaps Lars was right about him after all.

"Do you really believe that?" Hans asked, looking at him with tear-blurred vision. "Do you really believe, after what I've done to our brothers, that I'm still not a monster?"

"Yes," replied Lars, kneeling down to wrap his arms around Hans' shoulders again. "I would sooner die than be proven wrong."

Hans could not stop the flame from escaping his body, any more than he could stop the tears from dripping down his face. Nor could he break free of his brother's embrace, still firm despite the deadly magic within.

Or if Kristoff and Elsa had been telling the truth earlier, that Anna was indeed still alive despite the magic that Hans had conjured against her...

Lars would sooner die than see proof that Hans was a killer. Whatever happened next, Hans knew that he would be powerless to stop it.

"I love you, Lars," Johannes whispered. "I can't let you die without knowing that."

"I know, Johannes," Lars replied. "I would be dead already otherwise. I love you, too."

Again Johannes lost count of the minutes, enfolded as he was by the warmth of his brother's arms. At last, though, Lars withdrew from the hug.

"Come, Johannes," he said. "With Caleb and Soren dead, command of this... travesty of an invasion... falls to me. I must rally my forces, and I would join them with yours, until the battle is over."

"Come, Kristoff," said Elsa to her Ice Master. "We must return to the palace and tend to the wounded." Then she turned to her enemy and his brother. "Sir Lars... Johannes... We will speak again."

"Yes, we will," said Lars.

"Wolfgang, Gustav," Elsa shouted; a minute later, the two men came out of the street behind her, the one man leaning on the other's shoulders. Karl and the rest of their company followed closely behind. "It appears that Johannes needs you more than I do. Go to him, and see that his needs are met."

"By your command, Your Majesty," replied Wolfgang. "It has been an honor." He and Gustav ambled towards the young prince.

"Hans... Johannes..." Gustav whispered as he approached.

"Save your strength, Gustav," said Hans. "You can barely walk or talk."

Gustav continued to limp towards his master, Wolfgang supporting him the entire way. For the last few steps, bones crunched under clumsy feet until Gustav was leaning on Hans' shoulder.

"Gustav, you know what my magic is capable of," objected Hans.

"Your magic did not kill Anna or Elsa, it did not kill Lars, and it will not kill me," countered Gustav.

"It nearly has!"

"True, my legs will not take my weight for a few days yet until I eat and sleep my way back to full health, and that is on account of your magic. But as long as I need to lean on a shoulder just to stand upright, I'll lean on yours, with your permission."

Hans hesitated, but finally agreed. "You may."

Hans was surprised at how warm Gustav's arm felt around his shoulders as he found himself in an embrace of a different sort. Slowly but surely, Hans and his men followed Lars towards the palace. The harsh blast of Lars' horn permeated the air before them, and the soldiers of the Seven Isles were rallying to their only surviving commander.

* * *

"Queen Elsa," announced Lars, "I am prepared to offer terms of surrender."

He was standing about ten yards before the gates of the palace, his soldiers arrayed behind him. Some were shivering from their encounter with the Snow Queen, who was standing at the threshold with Anna and Kristoff at her sides.

"Before we discuss your terms," replied Elsa, "I believe my sister and I have some valuables of yours." She nodded slightly to Anna, who stepped forward carrying Lars' belt, which she placed on the ground halfway between them.

"Thank you, Your Highness," Lars said to Anna, stepping towards his discarded weapons as she stepped away.

"One more thing: It appears that in my absence, my sister has taken some of your agents into custody. Kristoff." She turned to nod at her Ice Master, who turned to beckon some unseen people forward.

"Sigmund!" said Lars as the first of Anna's prisoners came into view. None of the men responded, but Lars recognized his father's personal agent.

A sudden surge of fear washed over him as he realized that this man, as skilled as he was in stealth, as devoted as he was to King Haakon of the Seven Isles, had been taken alive by Princess Anna.

"Sigmund, answer me! How long ago were you taken?"

"Three days ago," said the spy. "On the very day that the traitor Hans was to be executed. The Snow Queen used her magic to try to carry out his sentence... more is the pity for her, since he had his own magic in opposition to hers. I knew then that I had to warn Caleb; Hans is now a greater threat to him than he could possibly imagine.

"I tried to flee when I saw Hans' fiery magic; I intended to take a ship and intercept your fleet so that you would know to turn back, but the first order Anna gave was to close the port and moor all of the ships there. Not a single one of us escaped. I have failed the Seven Isles."

Lars took in Sigmund's report with a calm grace that belied the turmoil in his mind. Things had suddenly become much more dire for himself, and for his brother, than he had thought possible yesterday.

"You are most gracious, Queen Elsa," said Lars, turning to face the queen, "to release my father's spies to me alive and unharmed." No doubt the spies in question would disagree, but if so they wisely kept their opinions to themselves. "What would you demand in return? It is my wish that you let the rest of my men live as well, and I will not take kindly to any demands to the contrary."

"I would make two demands of you, Sir Lars."

"Name them."

"First, Johannes is mine, as is any man who would not be parted from him."

A confused murmur arose amid the soldiers at that demand.

* * *

Hans was watching the negotiation with disinterest until he heard Elsa's first demand. Gustav was still leaning on his left shoulder, with Wolfgang providing support to _his_ left shoulder, and the other men were gathered in an octagon around them, as if to conceal or guard them from the rest of the Seven Isles' soldiers.

For that, Hans was more grateful than he could ever tell them. All he wanted to do now was melt away into the hewed stones beneath his feet, the way he had melted eleven of his brothers. The man who leaned against his left shoulder was more of a brother to him than even Lars had been until today. For that matter, so were the rest of the men who protected him now.

"His safety is of the utmost concern to me, Your Majesty," Lars was saying in response to Elsa's first demand. "If you should take him into your custody, I will insist on fortnightly letters from him assuring me that he is well. If I do not receive such letters, or if he tells me that you have harmed him in any way, I shall take it as an act of war against me and respond with all the might of Skaggerik."

"I accept your conditions," said Elsa. "Rest assured that Johannes will be safer in my custody than he could possibly be in yours."

* * *

 _Johannes? Who was Johannes?_

Anna was waiting impatiently for Elsa to conclude her bargain with Lars. It was right, of course, to return to him what was his, and it was practical to demand some sort of concession from him in return, but why was Elsa so insistent that Lars turn over this Johannes to her? And who were the men who would not be parted from him?

"My second demand," continued Elsa, "is that you take your men, your weapons, and your ships, and begone from Arendelle within three hours. Henceforth from this evening, not one of the soldiers from the Southern Isles who stand before me now shall be welcome within Arendelle, save Johannes and his men whom I know."

"Three hours should be acceptable," said Lars. "I shall begin preparations to depart at once. Farewell."

And so he did, his men rapidly receding towards the harbor where the twelve dark ships were moored. Within the hour, only an octagonal formation of men remained in the plaza.

Anna shivered as she looked over the men in that formation. The eight men on the outside were encircling three men, and as Anna took a better look at those three men... Though his finery was red and black and gold rather than white and blue and green, Anna would have recognized his red hair anywhere. "Hans," she hissed.

And there, in the middle of those three men, was Hans' accomplice, his partner in crime. This man was pressed up against Hans' shoulder as though his life depended on it.

 _Hans is doing more for this man than he has ever done for me,_ Anna thought with an odd feeling of regret.

"Elsa?" she asked.

"Not now, Anna," Elsa replied with a wave as Hans and his men approached her.

The traitor was kneeling before Elsa now, pulling his accomplice to his knees as well.

"Your Majesty," Hans whispered. "I am sorry... I am so sorry... for lying to you about your sister."

Approaching him, Elsa bent down to whisper in his ear, then pulled him up to his feet. Elsa quietly said something else to Hans, something that sounded to Anna like "You and I are now even."

* * *

It was a relief, Hans had to admit, that Elsa no longer seemed to hold a grudge against him. To be sure, that was small comfort compared to how else his life had been shattered. Eleven of his brothers were now dead... dead by his own hand, as Elsa had been kind enough to remind him. Fortunately, she had also been kind enough not to tell anyone else what she had whispered to him. "Words that shall remain for his ear alone, until he decides otherwise," she had called them upon her sister's inquiry.

Hans should have known that his elation at having served his brothers their just deserts would not last. If anything, Soren's final words haunted him worse than ever. Indeed, for a prince of the Southern Isles, for a son of King Haakon, "what better way to die?" Hans remembered again the blackened and broken bones of his brothers, how they crunched underfoot...

He could barely even look at Anna, whose angry gaze felt colder to him than Elsa's most powerful conjurations. He briefly noted Anna's presence with a shudder that he hoped she couldn't see. He barely even saw how unharmed she was despite the burst of flame that he had thrown at her a few days ago.

His most faithful servant was leaning limply against his shoulder, powerless to stand on his own legs.

And Lars was far away from Arendelle now, exiled forever by Elsa's decree.

Stepping over the threshold into Elsa's palace, he remembered the way back, and without any thought he turned down that hallway.

"Where are you going?" asked Elsa.

He was going back to the cell in which Elsa had imprisoned him a mere four nights ago, he decided. Anna's hateful gaze surely wouldn't follow him there.

"You said that I would be safer with you than with Lars," Hans replied, "and your dungeon is the only place where I can be."

He proceeded to the dungeon, where he opened the door and carried himself and Gustav inside. The rest of his men, faithful to the last, crossed the threshold as well, and then Rolf closed the door behind them.

But any comfort that Hans might have taken from his chamber's thick wooden door and solid stone walls was shattered by the angry voice on the other side: " **You said you would never shut me out!** **"**

Exhaustion, despair, and the irony of his long-forgotten promise to Anna overwhelmed Hans, and he wept until he slept.


End file.
